metal heart
by thespin
Summary: She's never heard a love story like this one. mirror post from LJ
1. Chapter 1

_**metal heart: HIMYM: (Robin, Barney, ensemble)**_  
Characters: Robin, Barney, ensemble  
Fandom: HIMYM  
Spoilers: through 4.14  
Rating: There's sex, so let's say R  
Notes: this was posted on LJ like a month ago, but I forgot to mirror-post it here. On LJ at .com.  
summary: she's never heard a love story like this one.

_Just keep holding my hand tonight  
And that's gonna make everything all right  
cause baby, it's the fall that kills me;  
Forget the sudden stop._

-"The Fall's What Kills You"  
Robin Sparkles  
**Make It Sparkle** (1995)  
Canadian Pop Records

Barney Stinson is lot of things. Once his therapist had him write them all down in a list, and it read a little something like: sex god, life coach, golf champion, wingman extraordinaire, sushi expert, expert witness, lazer-tag badass, best friend, Guitar Hero master, and well, the list goes on. On and on and on for at least eight pages, not that he's counted or anything. He thinks the list was probably supposed to teach him something about himself, but it turned out to be so full of awesome stuff that he framed it and hung it in his office instead. Oh, and then he fired his therapist.

Yes, Barney Stinson is a lot of things, but if there's one thing he most definitely isn't, it's a Ted.

Absolutely not a Ted, which is why he's here tonight savoring the view down the front of Erica's (or Megan's?) green dress as he leans in close to whisper in her ear.

He's here at the bar instead of moping in his apartment the way a Ted would in the case of a crippling feelings outbreak; moping in the apartment or hanging around under Robin's window with flowers and a boom box or growing a beard or writing poetry about it or whatever the hell Ted does locked up in his bedroom for hours at a time.

No, he's not a Ted. He's Barney Stinson so he's just gonna power through, just like when he gets a cold and goes to the gym twice as long as he usually does, runs until he sweats it all out and awesomeness is the only thing left in his body.

Erica's sensibly manicured fingernails trail up, catch and rub against the seam of his trousers, and oh yeah, he's definitely going to sweat out those feelings tonight.

_at the edge_

It's not that Robin has anything against monogamy; the few long-term relationships she's had were nice enough. When she was with Ted she liked not having to date around, and she absolutely liked the guaranteed sex on a regular basis. She liked having someone to go to brunch with; hell, brunch is fucking awesome. Her problem's never been sticking to one guy; she's more than happy limiting her sex life to one person. Less training required in the bedroom, which is always a good thing.

No, Robin's problem is expectations. Expectations stymie her relationships time and again, and they've just torpedoed the nice little thing she had going with Rafe.

"And that's it," Lily says, mouth slanting into a frown as Robin shifts guiltily on the couch. "'Thanks.' Just 'Thanks.' That's all you said."

"How is that a bad thing? I thanked him. I'm polite. I'm polite, and I was at _work_, Lily. In front of everyone I work with. What the hell else was I supposed to do?"

"Oh, Robin," Lily says, in exactly the way she does every time they have some variation of this conversation, like Robin's missing out on the most simple, obvious thing in the world. It's the same voice she uses whenever Marshall gets stumped on the $100 question during _Millionaire_ reruns or whenever Barney shows up at MacLaren's dressed like Bill Clinton or Captain Morgan or the Devil a day before Halloween.

She's about to ask what Lily would've done in her situation, but then Marshall bangs into the apartment looking for Ted and they're grinning and kissing and telling each other exactly what they had for lunch. And Robin's left alone to watch them, to wonder what part of her got wired wrong or broken or maybe just left out all together that made her this person that doesn't understand and doesn't even want that kind of thing in her life at all.

She sits at their booth, swirling her scotch idly as the familiar conversation washes over her. Ted's in love again and planning like always; this time she's an emergency room nurse they met when Barney accidently set Marshall's hat on fire two weeks ago.

"So I was thinking: movie? Or drinks? We just did dinner two days ago and I don't want her to get bored. You know. Variety: the spice of _lovvve_."

"I'm falling asleep just listening to you," and she starts at the unexpected nearness of the voice, looks up to see Barney hovering above her as he brushes at the light dusting of snow on the shoulders of his wool coat. His hip bumps her shoulder. "How do you keep girls awake long enough to score? And scoot over, Scherbatsky, Jesus. I called sitting in the booth yesterday; I've been stuck in the bitch chair for four days straight."

"If you think I'm giving you my seat, you're crazy."

"You could sit on my lap." His eyebrow quirks suggestively. "Or I could sit on yours, give you a treat. I've been working on my glutes."

She sighs, and squeezes closer to Ted and his endless Ted-ly deliberating.

Barney plops down, unwinding his scarf. "All right! And I didn't even have to start with the blackmail!" He throws up a leather-gloved hand, barely avoids elbowing her in the head. "Submission five!"

Marshall doesn't return the high five, instead glares imperiously at Barney beneath a chunk of still-scorched hair. "I don't know why you humor him, Robin."

"She likes me better than you, that's why."

"Oh, like it's even possible for someone to like you that much."

"_Everybody_ likes me that much."

"Uh, not when you set them on fire!"

"That was completely your fault. You stepped directly into the flames!"

"Hey!" Lily waves a hand between them. "Not tonight, boys. I spent all morning refereeing when Kevin decided to go eight rounds with a jar of paste; I can't do it for another three hours."

Abashed silence falls and Robin smirks to herself; thank god for Lily. The woman's got the maternal authority figure guilt-trip voice _nailed._ She uses the lull as an opportunity to grab a handful of pretzels, making sure to jab Barney in the ribs along the way. Hey, he's the one that wanted to make like sardines in the first place. Maybe if she keeps attempting to bruise him, he'll move.

Unsurprisingly Barney doesn't take the hint, just jostles her back as he throws a careless arm across the back of the bench. "So, what were we talking about?"

There's a pause, and then- "Frozen hot chocolate at Serendipity, maybe? Is that too romantic comedy? Or bowling! Hey, we could bowl! "

"Oh, Jesus Christ," Robin says, and her forehead hits tabletop with a satisfying thump.

**

"You're quiet tonight."

It's nearly three A.M. and she's at that warm, soft, buzzy night-time drunk place where everything's a little slower and a little bit shinier. Marshall and Lily left hours ago to 'finish up some things before they turn in', which Robin knows is code for 'doing it all over their new apartment', and Ted's emergency-room girl booty-called him around midnight ("I like this chick already," Barney smirked to her as Ted did his best not to run out the door).

She looks up from her sixth gin and tonic, eyes the blonde in the mini-dress he'd been schmoozing up until a moment ago. "Bored of Baby Spice so soon?" Lame, yes, but it's the best she's got. Tonight sucks.

Barney shrugs, that funny careless tip of his shoulders. "Hit the 'oh' moment.'"

"Another promise ring?"

"Boyfriend in prison," he says, swinging his scotch around a little too wildly to claim sobriety. "For attempted murder. With a pick-axe."

A chuckle bubbles up through her hazy exhaustion; Barney's always at his best around last call. "Smart move, then."

He raises his glass, winks. "I do love being alive," and he's smiling at her across the table and she feels a little lighter when their glasses clink. The last strains of some eighties power ballad fade out from across the bar; the jukebox rattles, goes silent. "Now, why the long face? Spill."

This isn't something she wants to talk about, at least not when he's making her laugh. So she feigns confusion, drags the rings of condensation along the varnished tabletop. "Spill what?"

"C'mon, Scherbatsky." He leans in, smiles, but it's his human-Barney smile, not the Barney-Barney one. Robin and Ted have this whole new 'Theory of Barney' thing, with this amazing Barney exponent graph they drew on a napkin a few weeks back when they were bored and waiting for everyone else to show up to dinner, with multipliers and predictors of Barneyness vs. Normal-Humanness. Ted's still convinced that if they hired a mathematician and got their hands on a supercomputer they could plot him all out, map the peaks and valleys of his Jackass-To-Awesome Ratio (patent pending). Tonight must be a valley kind of night. She frowns, blinks, and he's looking at her expectantly.

"Sorry?"

"Did Tim Horton's stop shipping bulk online orders of Maple Logs across the border or something?"

"Oh, haha, very—wait, how the hell do you know about that?"

Barney pulls an 'oops' face. "Uh, definitely not by going through your mail."

"Oh my god! You're the Maple Log Thief! We thought it was Mrs. Ritter from down the hall!"

His nose scrunches. "The old lady? There's no way she even could've lifted the boxes; those donuts weigh like fifty pounds."

Oops. She should probably try to get that nasty note back then. Or at least apologize. "Well. Mystery solved." She sighs, catches Carl's eye as he very deliberately wipes down the bar. "Closing time; we should head out."

She's halfway up the steps of the building when she realizes Barney's trailing behind her instead of hailing a cab. "Wait, are you coming up?"

The streetlights throw his eyes into shadow as he frowns. "Uh, _yeah_. We were in the middle of a conversation." There's an uncomfortable pause as his brain catches up and he shifts restlessly, stamps his feet against the cold. "Uh, unless, I mean, I can go home. Sure, if you want to turn in. That's cool. It's late."

If she were smart, she'd tell him to go back to his place. But now that she's thinking about it, hanging with Barney for a few more hours sounds a thousand times better than going to sit around alone in an empty apartment.

He's turning to go, but- "I need a smoke," she says to the back of his head, trying for casual. "Got any cigars stashed in that suit?"His forehead crinkles up with interest as he turns back. "And wow, I really did _not_ mean it like that."

He grins; his fingers wrap around her elbow as he starts tugging her toward the door. "Awesome unintentional innuendo; ten points for Scherbatsky!"

Barney does not, as it turns out, have any cigars hidden in his suit. However, he does know the location of Ted's super secret cigar stash (rolled inside a pair of socks in the bottom drawer of his desk, tucked under a five-year old phone book). Robin breathes in deep as he leans down to light hers, sighs with contentment as the smoke curls its way warmly through her lungs and winds into her nervous system. "I can't believe he had _real Cubans_ hidden in here the whole time we were dating and never offered to share."

"Hah!" Barney's knee digs into her back; there's not enough room on the fire escape for them to sit side by side. "Ted's not as dumb as he looks. Shocking, I know. You would've been into these faster than a Korean businessman at a cowgirl bar." His knee jiggles as he laughs to himself. "You know, because-"

"Oh god, please don't explain that to me. I don't want to know."

"Fine. I don't want to talk about work, anyway."

She scoots forward, leans back more comfortably against his legs. Takes another drag and watches the traffic on the streets below. God, she loves this city. Barney blows smoke rings over her shoulder, up towards the sky and Robin can't help but wish that everything in her life felt this easy. She sucks in a breath. "Rafe dumped me today."

His knee starts to jiggle again, and she twists around to glare. "Excuse me, are you _laughing_?"

"No," but she thinks he's chuckling under the hand he has clapped over his mouth; she can tell by the way his eyes are crinkling. "Okay, yes. It's just-" and he tries valiantly to straighten his lips into a flat line. "_Rafe_. Rayyyyyfe. Where do you find these guys?"

She sighs, gets up and ducks back into the apartment. She doesn't know why she even tries with him. "Goodnight, Barney."

"Hey Robin, c'mon." He follows her inside. "Really. I'm sorry, that was un-bro-like. Bro Code Article 35: never kick a bro when she's down."

She sneaks a look; he's not laughing at all. In fact Barney looks genuinely contrite, which is a rare and startling thing. "Sorry," he says again quietly, "and sorry about the guy."

She has to turn away again because she's been telling herself all night that she's not upset, that it wasn't a big deal at all and that she's absolutely and totally fine. But she's drunk and tired and it's late and Barney's the only one around and okay, maybe she tears up a little. Maybe she sniffles into her hand.

His leather shoes creak on the floor and then he's pressed up against her back, arms squeezing awkwardly around her torso. "I'm fine," she says quickly, but he hugs her tighter and she can feel the warmth of his skin bleeding through their clothing. It's just Barney, so she turns around and really hugs him, presses her face against his lapel and just breathes in and out, concentrates on reining herself in. Something in her unfolds, decompresses, and if her lips brush his neck a little it doesn't mean anything.

"How about another scotch," he says into her temple, and she huffs a laugh against his suit.

"You're the best."

"Oh, I know it."

So he pours them a drink and she tells him about today, about the stupid three-week anniversary and the awkward silence in the station cafeteria and all of it, about how she didn't even like Rafe that much and was totally going to break up with him anyway but it just feels like failure, like something else she sucks at.

"Wait." Barney blows another smoke ring; she should tell him to put the cigar out but what the hell, Lily doesn't live here anymore. From now on, she's lifting the ban on indoor smoking. Fuck, cigars are encouraged. "Wait. So this guy dumped you, hot _awesome_ you, because you didn't cream yourself over a teddy bear, which is really only an appropriate gift for five year olds, that he gave to you on a retarded anniversary that doesn't even exist? Is a three-week anniversary even a legitimate thing?"

"Apparently so. Lily said it is."

"Please. Lily and Marshall celebrate if Marshall successfully takes a crap. They don't count."

"Uh, gross." Robin pauses, considers. "But sadly true."

"So you're the problem here how, exactly?"

"Oh, it's just- I suck at couple stuff." Her fingers bend, flex. She wants to break something, just a little bit. "I don't like the stuff that you're supposed to like when you're dating , which I don't get at all by the way. You're having sex with someone, you know? It's not like you're getting a personality transplant. I'm always like 'Dude, I'm not going to suddenly like calling you 'Sweetie Bear.'"

He settles in, shaking his head disapprovingly. "With the number of women you've dated I can't believe you still deny being a lesbian. And yes, before you ask, I'm counting Ted."

Robin sighs. "And that's the other thing. It sucks living with someone who's so into all this stuff. It was one thing when we were dating, but now Ted tries to give me _advice_. Yesterday he suggested making a scrapbook for Rafe's birthday. A scrapbook! I mean, come on man!"

"Don't knock scrapbooking," he mutters, just loud enough for her to hear. "Look Scherbatsky, you don't suck at couple stuff. Couple stuff is just _lame_. Antiquing? Lame. Apple-picking? Lame. Craft fairs? Disgusting. Your personal awesomeness doesn't compute with all the couple crap. It doesn't mix. Like oil and water."

He bounces down on the couch next to her. "Rafe was lame. You dodged a bullet there and since he broke up with you, you didn't even have to be the asshole." His arm winds around her back and he grins impishly, the weird earnesty of the moment before dissolving completely. "Hell, you got lucky. I love it when girls dump me: they never call again. It's awesome."

She can't help but chuckle at that as she leans against him. "You always say the right thing, you know?

"Yeah, well. That happens a lot when you're always right. What up?"

She high fives him, just because.

Robin's in their tiny bathroom swirling toothpaste around in her cheeks to get rid of her nasty hangover mouth when she hears the door to the apartment open. She grabs a washcloth, spits, and heads out into the living room.

"Huh," Ted says from the doorway, staring at the couch where Barney's currently passed out wearing nothing but his boxers. "This is new."

"Yeah, he struck out with that girl so we ended up hanging out until really late. I said he could crash here."

"Fine by me," and Ted strides off to his bedroom, whistling merrily. "Amber had an early shift at the ER."

He's always obnoxiously chipper after sex. She's heading for the Advil when he pops back out, speculatively eyeing Barney's suit where's it's lovingly draped over the back of the armchair. "How much do you think he'd yell if we cut a little hole in his jacket?"

Way more likely to cry really, she thinks, since he's such a girl about his clothes, but instead of voicing that disturbing insight she just grimaces. "More than my head can take this morning, honestly. And he was super-nice last night; I'd feel guilty."

"Ah," and Ted nods sagely. "A low 'Jackass-to-Awesome Ratio' evening. We should plot it on the curve." He casts a longing look at the suit. "But… we may never have this opportunity again."

"Well." She considers. "You make an excellent point, sir."

Post-sex Ted also eats like a horse, so he decides that this morning is a pancake morning, even though it's only Saturday. Robin approves, volunteers to make the coffee so she feels like a contributing member of the universe. "Ask Barney if he wants pancakes, too."

Ted wakes him up by slapping his forehead. Mature.

There's a yelp, and a thud. "I'm up, I'm up. Hi, Ted."

"Hey, dude.

"You get to play doctor last night?"

She snorts, and Barney manages to drag himself off the ground, throws her a little wave as he begins his methodical dressing process. "Scherbatsky."

"I'm making pancakes," Ted tells him archly, ignoring the question.

"Pancakes? On a Saturday? So that's a big affirmative. " Barney's hand hangs in the air for a second as Ted sneaks a look back at her. "Oh, like she'd be offended. Robin's more of a dude than you are. Slap it, bro!"

Ted smacks his hand. "Okay, it was awesome. You want any pancakes?"

He snorts, runs a hand over his admittedly cut abs. "Please. Do I look like I eat carbs in the morning?"

"Uh," Robin interjects, "weren't you just saying yesterday that diets were only for people with vaginas?"

"It's not a diet, it's just good nutritional sense," he sniffs. "And a man's gotta do whatever it takes to stay in peak physical condition."

"Whatever. You want coffee?"

"This apartment is like eight thousand times more awesome with the marrieds gone. It's like the ultimate bachelor pad. I mean, not as nice as mine, but it's on its way. You just need a bigger TV."

Ted looks up from shoveling pancakes into his face just long enough to roll his eyes. "I know it generally escapes your notice because you're not sleeping with her, but Robin _actually is_ a woman."

Robin stirs milk into her coffee, enjoying the swirly cloudiness. "I'm not the one with seven issues of _Modern Bride_ hidden under my bed."

Barney's face lights up.

"They're Lily's," Ted says, too quickly, but the damage is already done; Barney's filed the little tidbit  
away for an opportune moment of humiliation.

She laughs, and it's kind of nice sitting here, just the three of them. Sometimes it gets awkward, just her and Ted, especially now that they've stopped hooking up, but she likes this, with Barney on his fourth cup of coffee as he tears through the business section and Ted demolishing his syrupy short stack as he sends what she guesses are disgustingly sappy texts. She liked living alone but this feels warmer than she expected. Neater. Maybe she could get used to having roommates.

"You know, Lazer Tag is unlimited games for five bucks until two on Saturdays," Barney says hopefully.

Hell, what else is she going to do today? "I'm in."

Ted shrugs. "Why not? Hey, does it smell like cigars in here?"

"I lifted the indoor smoking ban."

He shrugs again. "That's cool."

"YES. So much more awesome without the marrieds!" Barney rockets out of his seat, jittery with glee. "Lazer Tag, bitches! I call Scherbatsky on my team first." He blinks, looks around. "Have you seen my tie?"

It makes Ted snorts mid-sip; coffee dribbles all down the front of his shirt.

"The location of your tie will be disclosed," Robin intones with the straightest face she can manage, "if you can answer me these riddles three."

"Oh, fuck you guys."

"Riddle the first: what do you call a virgin on a waterbed?"

He starts tearing into the couch cushions, flinging one half-heartedly in Robin's direction. They laugh, and that's how their vaguely uncomfortable roommate duo unofficially becomes a way more awesome trio.

Later that night, Robin's sitting with Lily at the bar and knocking a few back when a familiar-looking girl slides up next to her. "Hey, you were here with that blond guy last night, right? Barney?"

Robin blinks, and it takes a minute to place her. Blonde that's dating the pick-axe-wielding felon. "Uh, yeah, that was me."

"Can you give this to him? He left before I got a chance." The girl passes her a card with her phone number scrawled on the bottom. "I'm Amy."

She turns the card over, frowns. "Don't you have a boyfriend?"

"No. Why?"

"Uh, nothing. I'll give this to him."

Amy thanks her and follows a group of girls out the door. Robin stares after them, puzzled, and then looks back down at the card, at Amy's spidery handwriting winding along the edge.

"What was that about?" Lily asks over the rim of her martini with extra olives.

"No idea," she says. _Weird._

She means to ask him about it, but when Barney shows up he's got this whole new wingman scheme where she's going to pretend to be his younger sister ("Much younger, you can totally pass for twenty. Eighteen, even.") and is going to sell his target this convoluted sob story about how their parents died in a car crash when she was twelve and how Barney wouldn't let Social Services take her away so he worked night jobs while he was in college to support them, and raised her and put her through school all by himself.

"I'm pretty sure I saw that movie on Lifetime two weeks ago," Ted says.

Robin grins. "You watch Lifetime? Lifetime: Television for Women?"

His face contorts as he tries to walk it back. "No. I mean, what? Besides, no one is ever going to believe you two are related; you look nothing alike."

"I'll bet you a hundred dollars they will with Scherbatsky in on the play," Barney says confidently as he reappears to slide Robin her beer. "You could never pull it off, but she will."

"Make it twenty-five."

"Done."

And because Robin's got true dramatic chops, they do believe it. Barney goes home twenty-five dollars richer with a perky blonde on his arm, Robin forgets about the blonde and the phone number, Ted continues to deny that he watches Lifetime, and all is right with the world.

**

Two months later Robin's kicking Barney's ass at Wii Bowling when Ted drags himself into the apartment and collapses onto the couch.

"Uh oh," Barney says, and puts down his controller. "I think our good friend Ted needs some cheering up."

"Don't use Ted as an excuse; you just don't want to lose any harder than you already are."

"My life is over," Ted moans from under a beaded throw pillow left over from the Lily-era and Robin sighs and sits down next to him, because a friend in need trumps beating Marshall's high score. But she was _so close_ this time. "Amber dumped me."

"_Yes_," Barney says triumphantly. "Finally!"

Robin gathers all of her strength, punches Barney in the arm."Sorry to hear that, Ted." She pats his leg as reassuringly as she can manage. "And don't listen to Barney; he's a jackass who sucks at video games."

"Whatever," and Ted presses the pillow harder against his face. "I just want to get drunk."

"TO THE BAR!" Barney crows.

Robin calls Lily, who sounds suspiciously winded when she picks up the phone.

"Put some clothes on and get over here. Ted's gonna get drunk."

"Twenty minutes," Lily says into the phone. "Marshall, put your pants on."

"I can't believe I put clothes on for this," Marshall says with a frown. "Drunk Ted is fun, but Sad Ted is just… sad."

Ted's got his head buried in his hands. "My heart is broken, Marshall. It's shattered."

"You're gonna be okay, buddy, I promise. You just need time."

"Please," Barney scoffs as he slides up to the booth, balancing a tray. "You don't need time. You need to get laid." He slams three shots down, sploshing a little tequila onto Ted's elbow. "Drink up." He slides two more down the table. "You too, Robin. Tonight you and I are taking one for the team."

"What the hell are you talking about?" She dutifully knocks back the shot anyway, and it burns nicely on the way down.

"I'm talking about the trifecta. All three of us are single, and we're gonna go three for three. One night, simultaneous hook-ups. It's gonna happen."

"Hey, what about me and Lily?" Marshall says. "We can make it five for five."

"Oh, you don't count. There's no _challenge_ in nailing your wife." An unholy gleam lights in his eyes. "Though if you guys were willing to relax the wedding vows for a night-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there, tiger." Lily's eyes fix on something over Robin's shoulder, widen. "And wow, I think Ted's on board already."

They all look to the empty spot on the bench, and then towards the bar, where Ted's got his tongue shoved halfway down some girl's throat. Barney throws his arms up victoriously, turns sharply back to her with a pleading expression. "It all hinges on you, Scherbatsky."

She looks at Ted, his hands clutching at the girl's hair. Something twists a little in her stomach. She tosses back the second shot, slides out of her seat to stand next to him. "Let's do it."

"THREE. FOR. THREE."

"Okay, we're going home," Lily says.

She and Barney run the 'local news celebrity and network executive' tag-team play. It works a lot better now that she works for a station people have actually heard of; within the hour Barney's reeling in a girl from the secretarial pool of a law firm and Robin's got a hot surgical intern on the line. Ted's doing just fine on his own, and amazingly enough they manage to move their six-person party upstairs without any mishaps.

"I call the bathroom," he hisses to her under his breath as they grab beers for everyone out of the refrigerator.

"Gross, it's all yours."

He nods seriously, points to his face. "Three for three, Scherbatsky. Do it for Ted."

A door slams, and when they look around Ted and the nameless make-out chick have already disappeared into his bedroom.

"Impressive," Surgical Intern Mike says as he pops the top of his beer, passes the opener to Jessica the Administrative Assistant.

"Very," Robin smiles smoothly as she sits down on the couch next to him. Crosses her legs, flips her hair, and leans in for the kill.

An hour and a half later, the trifecta's looking like a sure thing. Barney's disappeared with his girl into the bathroom, and Future-Surgeon Mike is totally, totally giving her the green light. Her body's rejoicing because she hasn't slept with anybody since Rafe and it's been too fucking long. Good hook-ups are hard to come by in this city and with the new job she hasn't had the energy for the all the small-talk and the bullshit that dating requires.

She's leaning in closer but then- "I know this is gonna sound like a line," Mike says, "but it's been bugging me all night. You looks so familiar to me, but I can't place you."

Her stomach starts knotting up. "Mike, where are you from?"

He frowns a little. "Toronto. Why?" She feels her face contort and he brightens up. "Oh, you're Canadian? Are you from-" and then she sees the light click on like she's seen it click on for hundreds of other people. Hell, that light clicking on is one of the major reasons she had to get the hell out of Canada in the first place. "You're the mall girl! Hey, did you know somebody put your video up on MySpace a little while back? Everyone's been playing it at parties like, _constantly_."

"Okay," Robin says. "I think we're done here."

She's sitting on the couch stewing when a screech followed by what sounds definitively like a slap echoes through the apartment. Administrative Assistant Jessica bangs out of the bathroom, hurriedly pulling her shirt back on. "Oh my God!"

The door slams behind her.

"Ouch," Robin says.

"A slight miscalculation." Barney's standing in the hall, shirt hanging open. She forces herself not to notice his abs. "Let's not talk about it. Where's Surgeon Brad?"

"Surgeon Mike. And… I sent him home."

"What? _Why?_ The trifecta, Robin, come on!"

"Pretty sure you blew that one on your own, dude," and Robin looks meaningfully at the door. "And I couldn't. He recognized me and it was too weird. I panicked."

"What do you mean he- oh. Oh ho ho! No way!"

"Way."

"Okay, call me on my phone."

"What?"

"Don't ask questions Scherbatsky, call me right now!"

She dials, and a digitized version of _Let's Go To The Mall_ chirps out of his shirt pocket. He grins at her, starts humming along. "I programmed the notes in myself."

"Oh, go to hell, Barney."

She rolls over, tugs her comforter farther up around her shoulders and prays for sleep. She's been staring at the ceiling for over an hour because she's so amped up; the Jagerbombs at the bar mixed with the anticipation of sex really didn't do her any favors.

Add that to the fact that the promise of a commitment-free hook-up is sleeping outside on the couch, and well, Robin's probably never going to get to sleep ever.

She's only made a few unfixable mistakes in her life, and that night with Barney was one of them. Not that she really regrets sleeping with him; the sex was fantastic. And even though everything with Ted imploded, stuff with Barney stayed perfectly fine because he understands how to separate the physical from the emotional, like rational people do. Barney was actually sort of sweet about the whole thing.

No, Robin's mistake was all in the timing. Specifically the 'kissing him with a Robin Sparkles song playing in the background' part. Because Robin is amazing at compartmentalizing, the best, but those songs are written in her bones and now every time she gets one stuck in her head (which, after singing them eight thousand times happens pretty fucking often) the sense memories of that night start seeping through her barriers. It gets a lot harder to look at Barney and just see her jackass friend without remembering the feel of her tongue running along his teeth, of his fingers digging into her hipbones.

It keeps replaying in her head, climbing onto his lap as his lips explored her neck and wow, her heart is going. What would it hurt, really? It's not like he's her ex. They've done it before, and she's a hundred percent sure he won't turn her down. And Ted's not gonna de-friend anyone over her again.

She throws off the covers, makes her decision. But just then the door creaks open and Barney pokes his head in. "Hey, can we share? The couch sucks."

She feels her face flush. "Uh. Sure."

The bed dips as he climbs in next to her with as respectable a distance as he can manage in a double bed and she pulls the comforter back up over the two of them, feeling a little stupid.

"Thanks."

"No problem," she says and she can hear him breathing in and out, can feel the warmth of his body under the sheets. This is silly; she's not a teenager anymore. She's a grown-up, a self-possessed woman who can want whatever she wants. There's no shame in it. "You still up for the trifecta?"

His face whips around. "What?"

"Three for three." She reaches out, runs her hand lightly over his stomach and okay, maybe this is cheating a little bit. Her nerves are jumping; she decides to blame it all on the Red Bull.

Barney's breath whistles through his teeth. "This wasn't a move, I swear. The couch really does suck."

She lets her fingers wander into the waistband of his boxers. "Just a physical thing. One time only, and it actually stays between us this–" and her words get lost when his lips mash into hers.

"I'm very discreet," he grins, and she laughs, rolls on top of him and grinds down. His hips buck up into her as a low moan echoes in his throat; he's already hard. "Oh Jesus. Okay, the couch thing was totally a move."

"I know," and she wraps fingers in the hem of her tank top, pulls it over her head. "Congratulations, it worked."

He's got that look that she recognizes from all the times he's dragged her and Ted to the Lusty Leopard, that 'hooray breasts' face that means his brain's gonna need about 5-7 seconds to reboot. "_Awesome_," he breathes, and Robin chuckles because he's totally reading her mind.

Something clicks into place like clockwork, like the fine metal teeth of a gear, and starts slowly winding away.

_check your balance_

She was right; everything is fine the next day. She wakes up eminently satisfied; he kisses her shoulder once, twice, before he rolls out of bed and then he's out the door before Ted even stirs. And then it's like nothing happened at all when they see each other at MacLaren's that night; Barney is amazing that way when he wants to be.

Ted gets incrementally less and less sad and after a few weeks he's nearly back to his normal, hopeful self. Robin dates three different guys named Ron, and Barney keeps on being Barney. He still hasn't managed to pick up a lesbian; Marshall suggests trying a wig. Robin loans him her mascara.

"I'm back in the saddle," Ted declares one afternoon, and they both look up from their game of Dueling Solitaire (Barney's winning but only because he's cheating slightly more than she is.)

"Yes, you shaved!" Barney throws down the cards. "Suit up, Ted!"

"Nope."

"Well, fine, you don't need a suit where we're going anyway. You too, Robin. This one is gonna be legendary!"

They stare at Barney as he settles back into the seat of the cab. "Ellis Island," Ted says. "Your legendary destination is _Ellis Island_."

Robin smirks. "Are we going to pick up twelve year-olds on field trips? Because I'm pretty sure that'll get us arrested. And while it would make a great story, I didn't dress for prison this morning."

"Have you two learned nothing from me?" Barney huffs a little. "Come on, Ted! What kind of people are into genealogy?"

"Uh, little old grandmothers and cat ladies?"

"Beep, _WRONG._" He turns. "Scherbatsky, make me proud."

She sighs heavily. "Girls with daddy issues?"

Barney claps, delighted. "Girls with daddy issues! Picture it, friends. Hundreds of lonely young women, searching out their family histories to fill the gaping emotional voids left over from their unsatisfying childhoods. It's almost too easy."

Robin pulls out a cigarette, lights up and ignores Ted's frown. "That's all great for you two but I'm coming along why, exactly?"

He grins smarmily at her. "Uh, two words: Security guards. Strapping young men festering with anger and disappointment because they failed their police exam for the third time in a row, all of them with a license to carry."

Something in her tightens up; he really knows her way too well. "Yeah, okay."

Ellis Island does indeed turn out to be legendary, but not because they get any action. She's leaning on the turnstile as she gets to know Phil the Security Guard a little better when Barney appears out of nowhere and grabs her arm, tugging her behind him as he starts to jog.

"Time to motor, Scherbatsky." Ted's pounding along the pavement behind them. "Go, go, go!"

"What the hell, guys?" She starts running though; she knows from experience that if Barney's running from something it's really not a good idea to stick around to find out what.

"Barney accidently groped the Mayor's wife during a memorial dedication ceremony. There were camera crews."

"I tripped," he grits out as they sprint into the exhibition hall, hang a left. Her lungs are screaming already. Barney leaps the ropes, dives through the door labeled 'Employees Only' and they skid after him. But it's a dead end and she can hear the footfalls of their pursuers echoing in the corridors.

"Shit," she mutters. Barney looks like he might cry.

"Robin," a voice hisses and they all jump, clutch at each others' arms. A flashlight beam swings across the tiled floor and oh thank god, it's just Phil. He tucks the flashlight back into his belt, straightens his badge. "There's an exit back here."

Phil lets them out the padlocked service door. "Bless you, Security Guard Phil," Barney says, voice suspiciously high. "You're a good man."

Barney and Ted speed off towards the ferry; she presses a hot, impulsive kiss to Phil's lips. "Call me sometime."

They all slide into a cab and Ted lets out a shaky sigh. "Oh my God."

Her heart is pounding in her ears. "I know. That was so _badass_."

Barney nods; he's practically vibrating with adrenaline. "Yeah, it was. We just outran the cops, and Robin is finally over her 'Ron' phase. Let's go do something awesome!" He bounces a little in his seat. "Lazer tag, what up?"

"Lazer tag, hell yes! And it wasn't a 'Ron phase.' It was just coincidence."

"It was a phase. Man up and admit it."

"Guys!" Ted's staring at them incredulously. "We almost got arrested. Can I please just go home?"

"Lame," Robin says, but they drop Ted off anyway. They're halfway to the place and Barney can't shut up about how awesome today was and she's so pumped but then somehow her hand gets wrapped in his tie and she's kissing him for all that she's worth.

He blinks at her for a confused moment, then tangles fingers in her hair as he presses his lips to hers again eagerly, starts trying to tug her into his lap.

"81st and 1st ," she manages to grind out over his shoulder, and the cabbie rolls his eyes.

It's fast and fun and rough, and he keeps cracking her up with increasingly lewd suggestions about what she should do on her date with Phil the Security Guard. Or at least she'll start to crack up, but then his fingers pinch her nipple or stroke along the crack of her ass and everything will suddenly seem a lot less funny.

She bites his fingers when he comes, runs her tongue over the red indentations. "That was a lot better than Lazer Tag."

"Mmmmmph," he agrees from where he collapsed into the pillow.

"We should do this more often. Occasionally."

He rolls over, opens an eye. "But what will Phil think?"

She smacks him a little, and he lunges up to wrestle her back down into the sheets and then it's much, much later when she finally strokes the nape of his neck and says "But really. I haven't had a serious boyfriend since Ted; there's no reason for us not to have fun every once in a while. It's clearly not going to damage our friendship."

His forehead crinkles seriously, lips twitch like he's about to say something, but then he shakes his head. Smiles at her. "You know I'm always game for the horizontal mambo, Scherbatsky."

"I prefer the vertical, myself," and that one earns her a high five, just before he hauls her off to the shower to make good on his promise.

Barney's refrigerator is empty except for three six-packs of Red Bull. Robin isn't picky in the mornings; she just needs some caffeine to get her back across town. Barney's still shirtless, tapping away on his laptop. "What're you doing today?"

She shrugs. "Gym, maybe. I want a nap at some point."

He nods. "Yeah, I'm pretty much-" he trails off, staring at the screen. "Uh, whoops."

"What?" but he doesn't answer, just keeps staring wide-eyed at the computer. She circles around to lean over his shoulder.

"I forgot to turn off the cameras yesterday," he finally mutters hoarsely, and Robin's stomach heaves a little when she sees the video feed, sees what is very recognizably Barney's bed. Sees what is very recognizably her own naked ass.

"Barney! You have cameras in your bedroom? That's disgust-" but then she trails off as video-Robin flips her hair back as she grinds enthusiastically on top of video-Barney. "Wow. I am really,_really_ hot."

Barney's throaty chuckle borders on obscene. "_Yeah_ you are."

She's fascinated, she's can't help herself, and she sucks in a breath as video-Barney rolls her over. His back muscles clench appealing and Robin lets out a low whistle. "Forget porn stars. Man, you've got the ass of a twenty year-old."

"Oh, I know it."

"You've got to delete this."

"Yeah."

She watches her own face, tight with pleasure as Barney's head dips toward her breasts, and feels the flush edging up her chest. "But maybe we should watch it a few times first." An idea strikes. "Hey, can you hook this up to your giant bedroom TV?"

He doesn't answer, and she finally stops watching to look at him. Barney's staring at her with the awed expression he usually reserves for the Prada Fall Men's Collection.

"What?"

"How do you even exist?" he breathes out. She rolls her eyes, pulls her shirt off again.

And that's how Robin ends up coming so hard her legs shake as she watches Barney get her video-self off with his fingers on the big screen. Her right knee almost gives; she presses her palms harder against the dresser to support her own weight. Actual-Barney pulls his own hand back from between her legs and he's still hard inside her, stroking in and out as he savors the end of her orgasm. She admires his stamina, but she's really gonna need to sit down in a minute.

Robin shifts, presses back against him and squeezes. He jerks, thrusts start to stutter. She grins. "You know, maybe we shouldn't delete all of this. Maybe you should save a few clips." His fingers convulse on her hips, stomach flutters against her lower back. "Just bits where you can't see my face."

A tiny moan escapes; his movements speed up and she reaches behind herself to stroke his balls. Too easy. "You could save them on your phone. Watch them every now and then at work."

"Oh, _fuck_" he chokes out and then he's gone, muscles clenching until she hears him exhale long and hard. She can feel the stubble on his cheek between her shoulder blades.

"I was kidding about the video," she says finally, as his breathing starts to even. "You have to delete all of it."

"I know," he sighs happily, and his lips slide over her sweat-slicked spine. "So worth it."

**

It keeps happening, once or twice a month when they end up bored and alone, or when they both strike out at MacLaren's, or when Barney gets really ramped up at Lazer Tag.

But nothing really changes. They all hang out at their normal bar; Robin goes on dates but never seems to make it past the three-week mark, Barney scams girls, Ted tries to fall in love, and Marshall and Lily watch it all with a relieved and distant kind of amusement.

Sometimes she thinks that maybe she should tell Ted or Lily or Marshall about her and Barney, but if it doesn't mean anything then there's no real reason to talk to them about it. It's not like she tells them every time she and Barney hang out at the cigar bar or grab dinner or play video games, and when you cut emotions out of the equation there's really no difference between any of those things and handcuffing him to his headboard for an afternoon and seeing where it takes them. She knows they wouldn't understand; Marshall would probably slut-cough.

Summer passes; the days get longer and then they get shorter again. _Wake Up New York_ stays absurd, but at least it's a job with potential. Maria Mendez hosts the 7 a.m. talk show but rumor has it that she's gonna get the spot as the 5 p.m. anchor this year. Maria Mendez used to have Robin's job, so at least Robin's got a shot at a career in actual news someday, even if it's just a local station affiliate. She keeps an ear out for jobs on the national networks, but it's not like Anderson Cooper's gonna up and quit anytime soon.

"Forget the news," Barney says, closing his eyes blissfully as he takes a drag off his cigar, passes it to her. "You know you're not ethnic enough for the networks."

"Wow," and she slides down farther into the sheets. His head tips a little to rest against hers. "Thanks for the pep talk, Debbie Downer. What happened to 'anything and everything is possimpible?"

"I'm serious. You want to do national broadcast, you should think about sports. I'm talking ESPN. Hot girl with a nice rack who can wax poetic about the Knicks defense? They'd eat it up." He smirks into her hair. "Think of all the hockey players you'd get to interview while they're half-naked in the locker room. " His hand lifts to an imaginary earpiece."'Back to you, Phil. This is Robin Scherbatsky, getting off.' What. Up."

She passes the cigar back to him. "No one takes sports reporting seriously."

He blows a smoke ring down her body, then another, wispy clouds of gray skimming against her skin. "You know who used to be a sports reporter? Keith Olbermann." His forehead presses against her neck a little, and she frowns.

"Barney Stinson, did you just cuddle me?"

He snorts. "Uh, _no_. Cuddling implies a lack of sexual intent."

"Oh?"

"And there is _plenty_ of sexual intent." He stretches. "I'm just too exhausted to act on it right now. Therefore: not cuddling."

Ted starts dating a grad student named Monisha that he met on the R train; she's nice enough. The first time he brings her to MacLaren's she tips Lily and Robin off to a great shoe sale in Brooklyn, which is big points in her favor.

But then Ted starts falling into his obnoxious Ted-in-a-couple phase again, and every morning over breakfast Robin has to listen to all the funny things Monisha told him last night when all she really wants to do is read the Times in peace. By Sunday she's had enough, and when Ted asks her to help dissect a comment Monisha made after the movie on Friday, she calls Lily. But Lily and Marshall aren't answering their phone and she knows what that means, so she calls Barney.

_What up Scherbatsky?_ She hears a girl in the background ask where the extra towels are, and feels a tiny moment of sympathy.

"Rescue me, please."

_Ah. Couple fatigue. I hear ya._

So he meets her at the cigar bar and they buy a bottle of Johnny Walker to share, even though it's just barely afternoon.

"How did you survive it the last time?" she mutters. Barney laughs.

"I found better friends."

She blinks, wondering for a split second if Barney actually might have another gang stashed somewhere else in the city; she could almost believe it. But then she remembers how devastated he'd been when Ted defriended him, and pushes the thought away.

"It's just hard to watch when you're single, you know?"

Barney stares at her over the edge of the cut-glass tumbler.

"What?"

"You're still a little bit in love with him, aren't you?" He sounds deflated, not like the Barney she knows and loves, and she realizes that he must be worried she and Ted are going to relapse and leave him out in the cold again.

"What? No," and it's mostly true. Well, not entirely true. "Okay, maybe I still have some tiny lingering feelings but that's normal. We dated for a year and we're friends. It's not like I ever want to get back together." Barney doesn't say anything so she just keeps rattling on. "I mean, it's natural for platonic friend-love to bleed into sexual stuff now and then. Like I've never noticed Lily's body. Please. And then there's this thing with you and me- - clearly friends can be attracted to each other without it becoming a big deal."

"Got it," he says a little tightly.

She eyes him challengingly. "Besides, I'm not the only one here with a little bit of a thing for Ted."

He just raises an eyebrow at her, swivels on his chair to survey the bar. "Whatever you say. Now. Pick a dude, any dude you want. We're going to play a little game I like to call 'Havve you met Robin's breasts?' You're gonna want to undo a couple of buttons for this one."

**

She lets the Ted thing slide because she's a good friend but the next time they end up naked together, offering up a tribute to Barney's very favorite number, she decides to push it a little. She stops sucking and squeezes the base of his cock tightly, lets her breath play over his skin. "Have you ever thought about kissing Ted?"

Barney jerks; his tongue stops moving. "What?"

She slides over him, turns around so she can trail kisses up his neck as she slides her palm up and down along his skin, varying the pressure. "Ever thought about what he tastes like?" she purrs into his ear and Barney shivers against her as she speeds up her motions. His hips rock along with her hand. "Ever been alone with him, late at night, and wondered just for a second what would happen if you reached down and undid his belt?"

"Oh god," he grits out and then he's coming into her hand. She smirks, wipes off on his sheets.

"I rest my case," she says as he sucks in air. "My thing for Ted is totally normal."

"Whatever," Barney says, runs a hand over his face. But he's grinning evilly when he looks up again and before she even realizes what's happening he's got her flat on her back as he slides down the bed, pulling her legs up over his shoulders. "What I'd really like to explore is this whole Lily fantasy you've got going on. Now _that_ is hot."

_stumble_

The guy Barney introduced her to at the cigar bar actually turns out to be kind of great; his name is Aaron and he's a lawyer that works for the Mets. He gets Marshall and Lily free box tickets to a couple games when she tells him that Marshall's a fan.

"Hot _and_ thoughtful," Lily grins.

"You have to marry this guy," Marshall tells her while Aaron's in the bathroom. "He's amazing. Best guy you've ever dated." Ted coughs. "Sorry, buddy. But seriously, best guy ever."

"Please," Barney says. "You want box tickets? I could've gotten you box tickets."

"Yeah," and Marshall raises an eyebrow at him. "But you didn't, did you?"

And then Aaron comes back and tells them a great story about his younger sister and the crocodiles at the Bronx Zoo and they all laugh, and this is the dream, the great guy that all your friends love. Robin thinks she should probably be a little more excited than about him than she is.

An hour later she excuses herself and goes outside because she needs a smoke; Barney's standing on the curb with a cigar.

"Hey," she says, and he turns. It's windy tonight; her hair whips around her face and tickles her eyes. "I thought you left with that girl. Got another one of those?"

He wordlessly produces one from the depths of his jacket, lights it when she gets it unwrapped. "So. Are you and this Aaron guy serious? He's kind of a tool."

Robin shrugs. "Could be. We're not quite at that point yet, you know?"

They stand under the streetlamp in companionable silence. "It occurs to me," Barney starts after a long moment, "that you and I have had sex twenty-three times. You're tied with the previous record holder."

She raises an amused eyebrow. "You're thirty-four, and you've only ever managed to have sex with the same woman twenty-three times?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"What's your point?"

"My point," and she watches his shadow as he sways back and forth, "is that this might be our last chance to break the record. If you guys are getting serious, that is."

His face is smooth, blank, and the shadows do strange things to his cheekbones. This is one of those moments where it's infinitely clear to Robin that there are a lot of things about Barney she doesn't understand. "You're so competitive," she says finally, raises the cigar to her lips again.

He just smirks and for a second there's something under the expression, some quick flash of human-Barney before it gets pushed away again.

Lily is right: she needs therapy. Her drive to win must be out of control, because she totally, totally wants to be the woman who's fucked Barney Stinson the most. "How about the alley?'

**

There's a weird moment at the end of it; she's pulling her dress back down and his hands come up to her cheeks, framing her face.

She blinks. "Are you okay?"

He kisses her, really kisses her with his eyes closed, like he's never kissed her before except for that one night on the couch and her heart does a weird kind of ker-thump with the surprise. She kisses him back a little but mostly she's just confused because usually he saves this kind of stuff for that special breed of commitment-hungry girl, usually follows it up with an "I love you… oops, is it too soon to say it?" (The two of them secretly refer to that move as 'the Ted').

He jerks backwards a little, straightens his tie. Looks at her face and grimaces. "Uh, sorry. Got a little carried away."

She shrugs. "No big."

"Hey!" he grins, and it doesn't quite reach his eyes. Something sways inside her, tipping uncomfortably off-balance. "Twenty-four! Sex-record five!"

She slaps his hand, and the sound echoes hollowly against the concrete.

"I should go back inside," she says, and starts walking; her heels click on the pavement. He doesn't follow her.

Lily frowns when Robin sits back down. "What happened to you?"

"It's really windy out there."

Lily nods understandingly and jumps back into her conversation with Marshall and Aaron, but Ted keeps looking at her, eyes crinkling at the corners. It's his deducting look, and she knows that isn't a good thing.

She and Aaron do get serious; in fact, they make it all the way to Thanksgiving. At first it's great; he's charming and polite and he always has something funny to say. He's great in bed. But after a month he starts getting a little more intense; wants to call her every night, starts making plans with her for Friday _and_ Saturday _and_ Sunday and even during the week and it's starting to chafe.

After two months she's running out of things to say to him, and he never laughs at the right time when she makes a joke. At three months he starts asking what she wants to do with the rest of her life. Where does she see herself in five years? The expression on his face when she shrugs and says "Cairo?" makes her pretty sure it was the wrong answer.

"Oh, I know that look," Barney says cheerfully over her shoulder as she pours herself another glass of wine. "You're just trying to think up an excuse to get yourself out."

They've just finished putting away the turkey; Lily's hostessing around in the living room, trying to find chairs for everyone, and it's just her and Barney in the kitchen. She sighs, because he's not wrong. "You have any suggestions?"

"How about 'it's not you, it's me.'" She rolls her eyes. "I'm serious. It's time to face it: you're single at heart. It doesn't have anything to do with Bill."

"Aaron," she corrects half-heartedly, but the comment stings because maybe it's a little bit true. She tries to cover, sips her wine and shakes her head. "You guys all talk like I'm some kind of ice queen. Aaron's just not the guy." Her teeth scrape her bottom lip a little; it really does hurt whenever Marshall or Ted makes some offhand comment about 'Robin the Robot' or 'Robin, the girl who couldn't cry'. "I'm not incapable of love, you know."

"I would never think that," he says, so seriously that it makes her look up from the depths of her glass, but before she can say anything Lily whirls back into the kitchen and loads them down with mugs and pots of coffee and pumpkin pie, and ushers them back out to the living room.

**

On December 1st she covers Aaron's hand with her own and tells him "It's not you, it's me," and the next night Barney makes them all go out to celebrate Robin's "newfound freedom." Well, he tries; Marshall and Lily are on their way home by eight and somehow she, Ted and Barney end up at the Lusty Leopard for after-dinner drinks.

"I'm going to buy you a lap dance," Barney tells her gleefully. "And I'm going to tape it."

"God, please don't."

"You can't come to a strip club and spend all night hitting on the _bouncer_. It's just not done. Lap dance!"

"Could you not say 'lap dance' so loudly while I'm on the phone with my girlfriend?" Ted shoots him a pleading look, which is a bad idea because Barney just snatches the phone away and shouts "Monisha, I'm buying Ted a lap dance!" into the receiver. Ted tries to wrestle the phone back, but not before Barney manages to tell Monisha that if she comes out to meet them, he'll buy her one, too.

"You're such a jerk," Ted mumbles. "if she dumps me, I'm blaming you."

Robin laughs because really, she missed this so much. "It's good to be back, boys." Barney beams at her when they clink glasses; Ted just rolls his eyes.

The holidays creep up on her; it's like one day she looks up and suddenly New York is covered in tiny, twinkly lights. One Saturday afternoon Ted and Marshall each get stuck at work, effectively removing their little group's collective sense of shame, and Barney convinces her and Lily to get smashed in the middle of the day. The three of them end up at the Macy's in midtown, get their picture taken sitting on Santa's lap. Robin can't stop giggling, and when Barney dares her to kiss Santa on the lips she totally goes for it.

One of the nicer elves hands them their photos as they're waiting and whispers "You guys probably want to get out of here; I'm pretty sure my boss just called Security."

They take his advice.

"You can totally see up Robin's skirt in this one," Barney says once they coax him onto the subway. Lily grabs for the photo but he quickly tucks it back into his jacket. "Oh, I don't think so. It's going on my wall. I think I'll have it framed."

Robin snorts. "Like you've never seen my underwear before."

Lily stares at her. "What?"

"I mean, what? Gross!" and wow, her voice just went really high. She grasps for a topic. "So, Christmas plans. What's the what?"

Lily claps hands over her mouth, shakes her head vehemently. "You can't ask me that yet," and the sound is muffled through her fingers. "I promised Marshall I'd wait until tonight."

They just look at her expectantly because there's no chance she won't break, and true to form Lily slumps within thirty seconds. "We have to go to Minnesota. Oh, Marshall's gonna kill me. He wanted to tell you guys himself."

Barney's frowning, and Robin reaches out for Lily's hand. "Is it because his sister-in-law had the baby?"

She nods. "His mom pitched a fit when we said we were going to stay. A polite fit, but still. We'll be back for New Year's, though. Thank God, I don't think I could handle a full week of St. Cloud."

Christmas totally sucks without Marshall and Lily. Ted spends Christmas Eve with Monisha, Barney goes to visit his mom, and Robin winds up at an office party where she spends the entire night fending off the losers from PR while drinking weak-ass eggnog and eating stale Chex Mix. Usually she's perfectly happy to be on her own, but it's freaking _Christmas_ and she hasn't felt this lonely since she first moved to New York.

Ted doesn't show up at the apartment the next morning and he isn't answering his phone, so she finally goes out walking and somehow ends up across town. In Barney's hallway, in front of his apartment.

She knocks, hears a flurry of movement. He opens the door, and she's never been so relieved to see someone in her entire life.

"Hey!" His face lights up. "Merry Christmas! I was just about to call you." He holds up his phone and sure enough, the scroll bar is hovering over 'Robin.' "So, what are you doing today? I heard there's a fake snow machine in Bryant Park; want to go kick some pre-teen ass at Snowball Wars?"

She hugs him really, really tightly.

It shouldn't surprise her when they end up in her bed together at the end of the day, but it's been so long she's actually a little shocked that Barney's still up for it.

"I thought you always wanted the strange," she says as he works on unbuttoning her jeans. "I'm amazed you aren't bored of this yet."

"True," he sighs theatrically, "I'm an explorer at heart. But I make an exception for you." He ducks so she can pull his shirt up over his head. "And you're anything but boring."

"I am pretty awesome."

"Fact," he agrees. "Even though you're Canadian, you are almost as awesome as I-" but the rest of the sentence gets lost when she tackles him onto the mattress.

Lily and Marshall come back in time to throw an awesome New Year's bash, with mini-quiches and crab-and-artichoke dip and these fucking delicious cupcakes from a bakery uptown, plus tons and tons of champagne. Robin's date is kind of a bust, but she really doesn't care so she foists him off on some girl that Barney's trying to avoid because they slept together once last month and she won't stop calling him. Robin's with the people she loves and that's all that matters.

Until Ted and Monisha break up, that is. There's a big shouting match in the kitchen in front of seventy people (Barney passes Robin the bowl of popcorn as it goes down which is totally callous but also totally hilarious) and then Monisha storms out. The party is way less comfortable after that, which means that Lily is kind of mad at Ted for ruining the party while Ted is just plain miserable.

She can only take about half an hour of the stifling awkwardness before she needs to escape. "Want to go shoot bottles on the roof?" she mutters to Barney, who's sitting with a very sullen Ted and eyeing a trio of blondes in the corner.

He makes a face. "You brought your gun to New Year's?"

"Are you coming or not?"

He slides off the couch, gives Ted a reassuring thump on the shoulder and follows her. "Ted really killed the party," he complains as they climb the fire escape. "No girl wants to hook up after witnessing a break-up. Now every chick in there is remembering all the times she got dumped."

"Yup. Tonight, all men are pigs."

He sighs, collapses onto the folding lounge chair Marshall keeps on the roof for when he and Lily decide they want to do it under the stars. Robin carefully lines up the empties along the edge of the wall overlooking the river and takes aim, fires. There's nothing she finds more satisfying than the kickback of a pistol, than destroying some shit with hot lead.

"Should you really be handling firearms while drunk?" Barney calls from a safe distance.

"Don't be such a Ted," she yells back, "and I'm not drunk."

"You really are."

"Come learn how to shoot a gun, Barney. It's time to become a man."

"No thanks, Canada," he chuckles, but he comes over anyway and lets her fit his fingers around the grip. The force of the kickback almost knocks him over the first time but then he gets the hang of it and when he finally manages to hit a can of Budweiser, they both whoop with delight.

"What are you guys doing?" Ted asks from the fire escape.

"Guns are _awesome_," Barney gushes, and she laughs.

Ted frowns. "It's almost midnight; come back in for the toast." He sighs. "And now I have no one to kiss. Story of my life."

"I'll kiss you." Robin shrugs. "I'm certainly not planning on kissing my ex-date Chuck."

"Hey!"

"What?"

"In case you guys haven't noticed, Ted pretty much assured that I'm not gonna have anyone to kiss either."

"Whatever," she says. "I'll kiss you, too."

"Excellent." Barney grins, and after a moment's pause adds "I'm going second. Ted can have the warm-up kiss."

"Fine." Ted twists around to eye them as they follow his lead back down the fire escape. "Enjoy my sloppy seconds," and Robin cracks up as Barney gapes at his back.

They all refill their glasses; Ted apologizes to Lily for making the party weird and she hugs him and apologizes back for being upset in the first place and then everyone's counting down and all of a sudden it's 2010. They clink glasses after Lily and Marshall make a sappy toast, their first big New Year's bash in their new home blah blah blah, and she kisses Ted chastely, smiles at him. "Happy New Year." He grins sweetly back, and then Marshall sweeps them all up in a five-person hug and she can't imagine anything more perfect than this.

And then Barney's in front of her, fingertips resting on her arm. "Where's my kiss, Scherbatsky?"

She can't help smiling, leans in to press her lips against his. His hand slides lightly around her neck and she likes the way he smells tonight so she pushes it a little farther than she probably should, opens her mouth a tiny bit into his own.

When they break apart she sees Ted staring at them, and later as they're helping Lily and Marshall clean up a little before they leave he sidles up to her. "That was a pretty serious kiss."

"Well, I'm pretty seriously drunk," she says, and escapes into the kitchen before he can dig any more. The three of them catch a taxi back uptown; the warmth of Barney's knee pressing against hers makes her think fleetingly about going home with him, but it would be too weird with Ted in the cab.

**


	2. Chapter 2

_fall_

They accidently go on vacation together.

Well, not accidently because that would be absurd; it's not like they tripped and ended up on the same plane or something. It was originally a group thing, a trip for the five of them to this sweet all-inclusive in the Caribbean that Barney and Marshall's company acquired in a massive corporate merger. They got a sick fucking discount and they all managed to wrangle time off at the beginning of February and it was going to be the start of a brand new 'family' tradition. Marshall's already talking about his and Lily's hypothetical future kids building sandcastles with Ted Jr. on the beach while the adults get wasted at the pool bar and it all sounds amazingly awesome to Robin.

Two weeks before they're supposed to leave, they find out that Marshall's dad needs bypass surgery. He and Lily end up flying to Minnesota again to help out so it's down to her, Barney, and Ted, which is totally fine since that's been happening a lot lately as Marshall and Lily get more caught up in being old and married and lame.

But then Ted's firm gets approached to pitch designs for the new library at Cornell and it's a _huge_ opportunity for him so Ted begs out, too. "But you guys should still go," he tells them over a beer after apologizing profusely. "There's still sand and sun, and I know how hard it was for Robin to schedule time off."

So that's how she and Barney end up together in the breezy open-air hotel lobby with all their luggage, squinting into the sunlight. "God, sometimes you forget how much sky the rest of the world has," she says. "I never feel like I'm outside in New York, you know?"

"Yeah," and he leafs through the stuff he got at reception, clearly not listening. "I switched us to a suite. Two bedrooms, but it'll be easier to hang out. Plus it's oceanfront and has a Jacuzzi, what up?"

"Cool."

And it really is; all tropical reds and greens and golds. She throws her stuff onto her bed, throws open the doors to the balcony and watches the ebb and flow of the blue, blue water.

"This place is awesome," he says from behind her.

"The beach looks incredible; I can't wait to get in the ocean."

"Yeah." He rubs at his neck; his hair's all rumpled from the plane, and she can't help but think he looks kind of delicious. Robin doesn't usually go for blonds but it works for him. It works for him **a lot**. They stand together awkwardly for a moment, and _oh, what the hell_.

"Wanna do it?"

His belt is off in record time. "God, **yes.**."

He's still panting; she can tell by the way his bicep brushes feather-light up and down against her shoulder. "Wow. You really outdid yourself there, Scherbatsky."

"Mmmhmm. That was… rejuvenating." When she gets back to New York, she's buying sheets just like these. "This bed is fucking incredible."

He struggles up onto his elbow to glare. "Um, I totally just blew your mind and _the bed_ is what you're gonna talk about?"

She rolls her eyes. "Oh Barney, you're the best I've ever had."

"Damn right." His fingers tangle in her hair, tugging and smoothing gently. Robin tries to sync her breathing with the steady, hypnotic whir of the ceiling fan. When she glances up again he's staring transfixed at the rise and fall of her breasts.

It makes something hiccup a little in her chest.

She doesn't know what makes her do it; her leg slides up, tracing over the jut of his hip until she's mostly on top of him. Her lips touch his pulse-point, then his chin, then the corner of his mouth; she feels his breath stutter. It must be temporary insanity. "I mentioned the awesomeness of the bed," and she likes the way her words vibrate against his cheek, "because I think it would be a shame for us not to take full advantage of it while we're here."

His lips curl, and the soft brush of his palms up her back makes her shiver a little. "Hmm, an interesting proposition. It puts me in mind of Bro Code Article 186: 'monogamy is desirable in one situation and one situation only: on a vacation lasting ten days or less.'"

He's an insane person, so she just scrapes his neck gently with her teeth. "And why is that?"

"I'm glad you asked." His fingers curl up over her shoulders, tugging her down so her belly is flush with his. "A vacation fling is guaranteed commitment-free in the long run as long you pick someone who lives outside a 50 mile radius of your place of residence. And it's scientific fact that the number of times you have sex with a chick corresponds directly to the dirtiness of the stuff she'll let you do to her. So you get more bang for your buck if you stick it to one girl, pun fucking intended."

"Charming." But sort of genius, though she'll never admit it.

"Don't hate the bro, Scherbatsky. Hate the code." He grinning like an ass, so she leans down to nibble the smile away. His lips follow hers eagerly and sometimes it's really hard to forget how much she likes kissing him, how his fingers always lazily explore her neck and trace her ears. When she pulls away he looks a little dazed.

"So. I guess it's a good thing we're only here for six days."

He blinks up at her, pleasure fog clearing a little. "Wait, we're really doing this?"

"And then back to normal when we get home. Agreed?"

He's staring up at her and for once she can't read his expression. He ghosts a thumb across her cheek and the moment's teetering on the edge of intimacy when he pulls back and says "Oh, it is so on. Sexcation five!" He punctuates it with a dirty grin. "That's where we high-five, and then I bang you again in the hot tub."

She laughs, and tries to smother him with a pillow.

Robin is a big fan of this sexcation thing. She alternates her time between the beach, the water, and Barney's bed/her bed/any flat surface in the suite and once, memorably, in the towel hut. In the evening they drink on their balcony and throw the empties at the sea gulls; Barney devises a complicated points system that she only half-pays attention to, but she has a good time watching him scribble as he tries to keep score on a napkin. It's way more fun than she had in Argentina; let's face it, Vacation-Robin was kind of a tool.

One night they get wasted and walk along the beach, looking for couples to surprise mid-coitus.

"Oh my God! This is a family resort!" she shrieks on their third encounter.

"Put your pants on, man! Think of the children!" Barney bellows, and she makes a mental note to talk to him about his tendency toward the melodramatic.

The couple scrambles away, red-faced and stammering, and Robin collapses onto the sand and pulls out the bottle of tequila she stashed in her purse while the bartender wasn't looking.

Barney sways, falls down next to her with a soft thud. "That was a really good one." He takes the bottle. "I hope you've got a lime in there, too."

"Limes are for pussies. We've got salt; that's all you need." She rubs some sand on his neck, licks it off before she takes a swig. "See?"

"You're psychotic. I blame the Canadian upbringing."

"You love it." She takes another swig, passes the bottle back. "This is probably the best vacation ever."

"Yeah," he sighs, leaning heavily against her, and she can't remember the last time she saw him this drunk. "I really like hanging out with you. You're like, my best friend. But in a different way than Ted."

"Okay,"she chuckles.

"In a way that I want to sleep with you a lot."

"Got it," and that makes her giggle harder, until her eyelashes feel all tickly. She wraps her arms around his shoulders. "You're my best friend too, you know."

And as she says it, she realizes that it's true. Things are still weird with Ted, and she loves Lily, but Lily's got Marshall. Lily's got her own life, and there's not as much room for Robin in it as there used to be. Plus there's just something so easy about talking to Barney; she thinks he gets her in a way that no one else really does. She doesn't have to pretend to be something she's not with him.

He's staring at her, and there's no sound but the wash of the surf. "I'm your best friend?"

"What, are you deaf?"

The star-bright smile that breaks over his face makes her a little sad, because no one should be that deliriously, transparently happy that they mean something to someone. But then he starts pressing sloppy drunk kisses all over her face as he says over and over "you're awesome, you're _sooooo awesome_," and all she can do is hug him and laugh and try to surreptitiously wipe his spit off her cheeks before she gets all sticky and gross.

Robin spends their last afternoon in the ocean; sun warm and prickling on the back of her neck. She can't believe that after this she's gotta go back to waking up at 2 a.m. to host a broadcast that no one watches besides Barney, Ted, and a couple of stoners at Columbia.

There's a sudden spray of saltwater and she turns; Barney's smirking from under his doubtlessly designer shades. "Heads up."

She splashes him back a little, and then dunks under the surface to get her hair wet. "Last day. I'm really going to miss sleeping though the night." There's salt in her eyes, and after she rubs at it and regains the ability to see he's a lot closer than he was a minute ago. Like, she can feel his breath on her eyelashes.

"It's not over yet," he says, and she almost can't hear him but he's doing that ridiculous porny eyebrow thing and oh, she definitely knows what that means. Robin leans up, presses their lips together so their tongues can tangle. He tastes like ocean and cigars.

"No," she agrees, and his fingers trace her hip, find the knotted string of her bikini. "No, it's not over."

Ocean sex is always a little weird; you can't ever quite get the right friction going. But she doesn't mind when he presses inside her, starts to move, tiny little thrusts as she watches the people walking along the white sand over his shoulder. They're pretty far out from the beach, but not far enough away to guarantee that no one will notice. He bites her earlobe and she wraps her arms tighter around his neck, shivers a little in the breeze; he's got her swimsuit bottoms wrapped around his wrist like a bracelet. A group of kids splash around at the edge of the surf and she wiggles her way farther down onto his cock, starts brushing her fingernails over his nipple.

God, she hopes someone notices.

He stills inside her, wraps an arm around her lower back to pull her back up to his lips. His fingers slide between their bodies, brushing and teasing down between her legs as his hips shift slowly back and forth.

She's almost there when he stops kissing her, pulls back a little. "Look behind you," he murmurs. His cheek grazes the shell of her ear.

She cranes her neck as he scrapes teeth along her shoulder; there's a middle-aged couple paddling a kayak about twenty feet away, staring right at them. The woman frowns, and every muscle in Robin's body strings up tight. Barney pinches her clit and then she's coming harder than she has in years, toes clenching against the sides of his calves.

When she can breathe again, she relaxes her fingers so her nails aren't digging so deeply into his back. He just laughs into her skin. "Such an exhibitionist."

"Shut up."

They have sex twice in the airport bathroom before their flight leaves, and when they deplane at LaGuardia she grabs his wrist and drags him into the ladies again, locking the door behind them. "Vacation's not over 'til we're actually home."

"Agreed."

But his pants never actually come off; they end up making out in the handicapped stall like teenagers. His hand wraps warmly around the back of her neck with a sad kind of finality and suddenly it's a little hard to breathe. Finally, he pulls back, kisses her forehead a little as she hugs him tightly.

"I had a really good time," he says plainly.

"Yeah," she says, and it's hard to look him in the eyes. This feels like a conversation that's way too serious to have with a toilet paper dispenser digging into her back. "Me too. It was just what I needed. No stress, no complications."

"Right." He rubs at his neck, and she's starting to wonder what that little gesture means. "So, bags?"

She gets him their stewardess's phone number at the baggage claim. "You're welcome," she says when he gives her a funny look.

They share a cab into Manhattan; he leans out the window after they roll to a stop in front of MacLaren's. "See you later?"

"See you," she echoes, and he smiles. Robin watches the cab pull away before hefting her bag over her shoulder, tries to convince herself that the pricking behind her eyes is because it's three degrees below zero, and definitely not because she kind of wants to cry for absolutely no reason at all.

"Hey," Ted says happily from his drafting table when she pushes through the door. "You're so tan! How was it? Barney wasn't too Barneyish, I hope?"

"No, it was fine. It was great. Sand, sun, you know. How was your thing?"

"We made it to the second round! I'm working on the sketches right now; wanna see?"

So she sits down and lets Ted ramble about sustainable design and modern neoclassicism and whatever, and she forces the lump in her throat down as she starts coming up with vacation stories to tell tomorrow at the bar that don't involve naked Barney in any way, shape, or form.

And everything is totally fine.

Lily is squinting at her with her kindergarten teacher face, and Robin feels a stab of panic.

"What?"

"What's different about you?"

"I got a tan?"

"Ahhh," she says, and looks like she's about to follow up, but then Marshall, Ted, and Barney come back with the next round and she closes her mouth.

"Tell us about the place so we can all live vicariously," Marshall says. "Minnesota was cold."

Lily nods sadly. "Cold and dark. No one tans in Minnesota."

There's a pause. "Robin won the shuffleboard tournament," Barney finally offers, staring disinterestedly into his scotch.

"That's it?" Ted leans in. "You were loose on a beach with unlimited liquor for six days and all we get is 'Robin's good at shuffleboard'? And isn't shuffleboard only for old people? Is it really fair for someone under sixty to participate in competition?"

She clears her throat. "Security caught Barney with a girl in the kitchen in the middle of the night and as he was trying to get away, he tripped over his pants and fell into someone's wedding cake."

"Robin!" Barney yelps, as Marshall booms "NOW THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT."

Lily's all interest. "Who was this girl?"

Barney makes a strangled sound, but Robin just swirls her martini smoothly. "Her name was Candie." She adds a thoughtful pause for effect. "I'm pretty sure she was a stripper."

"I need another drink." Barney mutters to the ceiling.

The thing about having near-constant sex for six days straight is: you get kind of used to it. It's Wednesday night, and she hasn't talked to Barney since Sunday and this totally sucks because Ted's already asleep and she can't go to bed because she has to be at work in three hours. She's found that it's easier to live nocturnally during the week than to try to go to bed early enough in the evening to wake up two hours before dawn. But right now she's got nothing to do and there aren't even any good infomercials on, and all she can think about is how much she wants to get laid.

_You want Barney_ her brain says, but she shoves that thought away because she doesn't want to go down that very weird, confusing emotional road right now. She makes a decision, scrolls through the contact list on her phone.

"_Hey_," Barney says when he clicks onto the line. "_What's up?_"

"Oh, you know." She bites her lip, and there's an awkward silence.

She hears him suck in a breath. "_Okay, look, I've got a girl on my couch. But say the word and she's gone before you get here._"

She considers. "Are your pants still on?"

He laughs, and the sound makes her smile a little. "_All parties are still fully clothed._"

"Kick her to the curb; I'll be there in twenty."

In the cab, she takes a deep breath and tells herself that nothing's changing, that this is just a run of the mill booty-call between two friends. But she blows that weak-as-hell premise when she kisses him as soon as the door opens; he responds with equal fervor as he tugs her inside. "I have to be showered and at work by three," she says into his hair, a little breathlessly, "so we've got two hours."

He smirks, squeezes her ass. "We can do a lot with two hours."

"Thanks for doing this."

He shrugs. "The girl was a 5 who wanted to take it slow. Instead, I get a 20 who's, well, the way you are. Really, you're the one doing the favors here."

"Great." She eyes him. "Well, what are you waiting for? The starting pistol?"

His eyebrows quirk, and they're off.

It happens again on Friday morning after she gets off work except that this time he's the one that calls her, sounding tired and a little strained. "Hey, I've got a meeting with the North Koreans at three. But-"

"Meet me at the apartment."

"Okay," Robin wheezes. "Okay. It's come to my attention that we maybe need to revise our casual sex proviso."

His fingertips stroke up and down her thigh. "Listening." She can hear the smirk in his voice.

"I think that we're not gonna be able to go cold-turkey back to once or twice a month. So we should just step it down slowly. Move it to a few times a week and take it from there. We give ourselves time to calm down a little."

"Good plan," he says, and she can feel his lips moving on her spine, breath washing back and forth across her skin. It's really nice in a way she doesn't want to think about. "I support this plan. Are you coming to karaoke tonight? Ted's in, and so are Marshall and Lily."

"That depends. Are you gonna man up and sing 'Like A Prayer'?"

"Ah," and he rolls onto his back. "I was hoping you'd forget about that."

"I never forget winning a bet. Especially one this awesome."

Barney sniffs. "Whatever. I will manfully sing your Madonna song, and what's more, I will rock it harder than it's ever been rocked before. The place will explode with the rockitude of the Barnacle."

"You're resurrecting 'The Barnacle'? And just when I thought the world was safe again."

He winks, rolls to his feet. "Back to work."

She must've dozed off because when she blinks again drowsily Barney's standing over her bedside table, freshly showered and suited up. She watches him slide his watch on, then sits up to retrieve his tie from where it's hanging off her lampshade.

He takes it with a smile and sits down next to her to pull his shoes on; the bed dips with his weight and when he starts to stand she reaches over impulsively, pulls him into a kiss. She feels one of his hands slide along her back as he leans into her; it's comfortable and sleepy and warm.

"Get some rest," he says when he pulls back, and then leans in for one more before he goes.

They don't step it down.

She means to stop, she really, really does. This whole nocturnal lifestyle thing must be messing with her circadian rhythms and her hormones and her sanity, because not only does she _not_ stop ending up in bed three-to-five times a week with Barney Stinson, her friend and cad-about-town, but she actually thinks it's kind of awesome.

It's all of the sex and none of the awkward, exhausting relationship stuff that she hates dealing with whenever she starts sleeping with someone more than a handful of times. None of the pet names, none of the obligatory public cuddling, none of the constant pressure to be the most considerate and understanding girlfriend ever. She and Barney go like this: Ted's asleep by twelve, Barney's hands are fisted in her hair by one, and she breezes into work, cheerful and relaxed, by three-thirty AM sharp for make-up and prep. She'll find herself sitting in the high-backed chair in the dressing room as Rachel flutters around her dabbing and brushing and blending, thinking _it doesn't get any better than this_.

Robin thinks there's probably something seriously wrong with that.

But really, she can't help herself. They get kicked out of the Lusty Leopard the day after Easter; he lured her there with the promise of two-for-one drink specials. Robin buys him three lap dances so she can flirt with the cute bartender but somehow the night still ends with her dress shoved up around her waist in a stall in the men's room, Barney's tongue hot in her mouth.

The bouncer pounds on the door. "Against club rules!"

Barney smothers laughter into her neck as she calls out "I swear I'm not an employee."

The bouncer keeps on banging and when they skulk out, straightening their clothes sheepishly, he glares them down. "_You two_." Barney looks so crestfallen that Robin gets the giggles and that gets them tossed out on the street even faster.

"Great." Barney kicks at a greasy hamburger wrapper on the corner. "Now I have to find another strip club. I really liked this place." He shudders. "Oh god, what if I get stuck going to _Scores_ for the rest of my life?"

"I'm sure it'll blow over in a week or two. You're like, their best customer."

"True," he sighs, pulls out two cigars. "So, back to my place?"

Really. She never even means for it to happen; it just does.

She dials as she pushes through the rotating glass doors onto the avenue; the only nice thing she could say about her job right now is that she likes being out of there every day before noon.

_"What up?"_

"I'm having kind of a day."

He chuckles. _"Yeah, you are."_

"What are- oh my god, you're watching right now, aren't you?"

_"My TiVo emails me the stuff I record; don't ask how, I know a guy. Did that chef just grab your ass?"_

"Repeatedly. I'm pretty sure he was drunk." Robin tries not to grimace at the memory. "He certainly smelled drunk."

_"Oh, this is so going on my blog. Cooking segments with horny wastoids; YouTube is going to love you."_

She sighs. "I knew you were the one putting up all those clips. Are you busy right now?"

_"You wanna grab lunch?"_

She dodges a guy hawking DVDs, heads for the subway. "Uh, close."

_Ahh,_ he says, and she can tell his interest level in the conversation just skyrocketed from about a 5 to a 75 by the way his voice drops down a register. _"Well, luckily I can satisfy that kind of craving, too. I'm like the Snickers of men. Come to GNB."_

"Be there in fifteen."

He starts laughing again. _"Did your shirt just catch on fire?_

Robin glances down regretfully at the scorch-mark on the burgundy silk, sighs again. She really liked this blouse. "Yes." The cackling kicks up a notch into 'shrill,' and she snaps the phone shut.

Marshall likes to tell them stories about Barney's office, but the real thing is infinitely more absurd than she ever could've imagined from his descriptions, all polished glass façade and intimidating lines. His ferocious-looking assistant waves her in, tells her he'll be back in five minutes, and Robin spends at least 45 seconds gaping at the wall of motivational posters. He's either the most cynical person she's ever met or the most insanely deluded, and she's never been able to quite make up her mind which it is.

When she finds the framed list entitled "Things I Am That Are Awesome" in what is very recognizably his own handwriting, she smiles to herself and mentally ticks down a point in the 'insanely deluded' column.

"Hey Barney, are you- Robin!"

She freezes. Oh, crap, this is like the motherload of bad. "Uh, hey Marshall."

He smiles questioningly at her from the doorway. "Hey, what are you doing here?"

"Barney and I were going to go grab some lunch," and his eyes crinkle a little and she knows Marshall so she knows the next question is _since when do you and Barney grab lunch_? Before he can get it out, she blurts "Wanna come?"

He perks up. "Sure!"

So when Barney strides in, she waves quickly at Marshall and says all in a rush "Marshall's coming to lunch, too!" way, way too loudly and way too brightly. "Awesome, right!?" Barney just gives her a look, and man, he's totally gonna give her crap later about not being able to keep her cool.

Barney makes them go to this ridiculous theme sushi place where all the waiters are dressed like ninjas and the hostess hits a gigantic gong with a mallet every time another customer walks in. Hello, migraine city. Their ninja/waiter keeps flirting with her, pulls a throwing star out from behind her ear when he brings her another glass of merlot.

"Ninjas _and_ magic?" Marshall waves his chopsticks enthusiastically. "No wonder you like this place. It's fucking amazing. I mean, the food sucks, but it's awesome."

"You gonna give that ninja your phone number, Robin?" Barney smirks at her over his udon. "I bet if you asked nicely he'd take you home to show you his big wooden staff. What up?"

"That's the best you've got? A big staff?"

"Oh, like you've got a better one."

"Uh, how about 'bang your gong'? I've been waiting for an opening since we walked in."

Marshall fist-bumps Barney anyway because he has low standards; Robin rolls her eyes.

As they walk back towards GNB sipping their sake lattes-to-go Marshall says "We should do this more often," and they both nod their agreement because it really was fun, even if it wasn't exactly what Robin was hoping for this afternoon.

Marshall and Barney wave as they push through the doors back into their building and she pauses for a second to watch them go before she heads for the subway, feeling inexplicably let down. Getting some time alone with Barney shouldn't matter so much to her, but weirdly it kind of does.

She's a block from the station when she hears someone shout her name over the noise of the traffic. She turns, spots Barney jogging toward her though the crowd. He skids to a halt, panting. "Hey, so. There's a men's room that locks on the first floor of my building. Or we could go back to my apartment if you want."

She stares at him. "Don't you have to go back to work?"

"Eh. I pushed my meeting back to four." He winks. "A friend in need, right?"

Robin has to bite back a smile. "Right. Of course," and something tightens warmly in her chest when he grins. "Honestly, the men's room sounds great."

The Marshall incident rattles around in the back of her mind because this whole thing is starting to feel a little like they're lying to their friends. It was one thing when they were just sort of falling into bed together by accident, but now… well, Robin's not dumb enough to think whatever they're doing is anything close to serious because this is _Barney_, but it's starting to feel kind of important. Like it's something that matters in their friendship, and it's getting harder and harder to ignore.

It bothers her the whole time they're at the Super Soaker battle in Central Park on Sunday, and nags all through the post-victory naked festivities. She finally pulls back from his lips and Jesus, when did they start this making-out after sex business? She honestly can't remember.

He doesn't seem to notice her halted participation, just moves his attention down to her neck. One of his hands twists in her hair; the cold metal band of his watch presses behind her ear as he shifts to brush lips over her collarbone.

"Barney," she says, but it comes out a lot breathier than she meant it to. She blinks, pushes against the couch to leverage herself farther back toward his knees and away from his lips. "Barney."

He frowns up at her. "What?"

"Is it weird that no one else knows about this?"

Something that looks like panic flashes across his face but he shoves it away almost instantly, fixes his attention back on her breasts. "A little. Why, do you want to tell them?"

She sighs, because she's been going over and over this in her head for like two weeks now and she still doesn't have a solid answer either way. "Not really, no. Maybe. I mean, I don't think it would be like last time. I don't think they'd be mad. I think it would just be… complicated."

Complicated is really the only word for it; she knows if Lily found out she'd start analyzing, start trying to get to the root of why she and Barney can't seem to stop screwing around, which means that _Robin_ would actually have to start thinking about it, too. Then every time the two of them went anywhere together Marshall would assume they were doing it, and the knowing looks would make her super uncomfortable. Add all of that to the whole awkward Ted situation, and well, it just seems like a giant ball of suckitude.

And she's pretty sure that all the suckitude would mean they'd stop doing this on such a regular basis.

He leans into her, forehead pressing warm and dry against her cheek. "We can tell them if you want. We probably should."

She runs her palms over the smooth, tight muscle of his shoulders, and the thought of them ending like that makes her stomach roil a little. "Let's not." He looks up, startled, so she shrugs by way of explanation. "I don't want this to change, you know?"

His half-smile is devoid of its usual challenging cockiness; if she didn't know better, she'd say he looked a little sad. "Yeah," and his arms wind tighter around her again, tug her back; she can feel the soft tickle of his chest hair against her sternum. "Yeah, me neither."

-

"Fifty bucks says you can't hit the roof of the ball return hut."

Barney snorts. "Please, my dead grandmother could make that shot. Done."

Robin smirks, and Ted blows a stream of smoke up at her from where he's sprawled in a plastic lawn chair. "You know, it's not very nice to take advantage of a person with a gambling addiction."

Barney chips the shot, curses.

She shrugs as she swings her club idly, sets another ball onto the tee. "Hey, I'm just trying to win back all the money I lost when he dragged me to the dog races. Thanks for ditching us last weekend, by the way."

"For the hundredth time, I had to work." Ted sighs heavily. "I feel like I haven't seen you guys at all lately with this new project."

Barney chuckles to himself as she winds back to drive. "I still can't believe Robin thought dogs with shorter legs would be faster. Easiest three hundred dollars I've ever made."

Robin's ball arcs neatly through the air, hits the catch-net near the top. Ted lets out a low whistle around his cigar. Perfection. She turns to Barney, smiles challengingly as she leans onto her club. "Fifty bucks says you can't beat that shot."

"Oh, you're so on," Barney says, over Ted's exasperated groan.

June comes, and then July. Robin keeps waiting to get bored, keeps waiting for _Barney_ to get bored, but it never happens. They bro- out like always, serve wingman duty for Ted and sometimes even for each other when they're in the mood. They totally murder the opposition in the all-Manhattan Lazer Tag tournament (organized, of course, by Barney himself). But sometimes when her guard's down, she looks at him and feels… , well.

It happens again on a Tuesday evening; Barney shows up at the apartment after work to play video games, which somehow segues into fucking on the couch. Her breath catches a little when she notices the digital display on the clock-radio, arches as he tugs her hips into his faster and harder. "Ted's gonna be home any minute."

"So? Come faster, then." His fingers slide down to help her along as he hums thoughtfully to himself. "What would you do if he caught us? Just walked in and found us like this." She can't help it, she moans a little at the thought and it makes Barney grin predatorily. "I wouldn't stop. Can you imagine the look on his face?"

And god, she is, she's totally imagining it and she's so close and then he leans in, kisses just underneath her ear and murmurs "He'll walk in any second now…" and then her stomach muscles spasm and she's gone, rocking reflexively against him until she can breathe again.

Barney huffs out a gleeful chuckle into her hair. "Psych, he texted me an hour ago; he's stuck at work until eight. That was classic. You've got such a fetish."

She wishes she were motivated enough to hit him, but she feels way too boneless and wonderful right now to follow through. "You're a jerk." He shifts, still hard against her thigh, and Robin presses up on her knees to kiss him, to inch back down onto his cock. He sighs contentedly into her mouth, hands wander up her back again to pull her closer as she starts moving slowly on top of him.

She pulls back to drop kisses down his neck, frowns. "Did you get a spray tan?"

"Yeah," he sighs into her shoulder dreamily. "It makes my pecs look _awesome_."

She laughs. "I swear, you're like thirty percent girl."

"Well," and he leans in to kiss her chin; her insides go all warm and funny at the brief pressure of his lips. "You're like fifty percent lesbian, so it all works out in the end."

It's stupid, but she kisses him then and just for a second she can't help thinking _we work together, we fit so well_. It's a jagged, perfect feeling, but she's never had that thought about anyone, not even about Ted, so she certainly can't go around having it about Barney Stinson, the one person who's even more allergic to commitment than she is.

Robin squeezes her eyes shut and pushes the moment away because that road leads only to heartbreak, shuts it down and concentrates instead on making him come even harder than she just did a minute ago.

She totally succeeds.

"Is everything okay with you?" Lily asks over their shopping excursion coffee-break latte.

Robin frowns a little. "Sure, why?"

Lily's nose screws up. "I'm not trying to pry, but you seem like you're kinda having a dry spell. You haven't been dating much."

Robin feels her shoulders tense up, ligaments winding tight into bone. "I'm busy with this job, you know? And I've gone out with some guys. I went out with that rock-climbing guy last week. Mike."

"No, I know. It's just, and I mean this in a totally positive non-judgmental way, it seems like a lower volume of guys than normal and you really haven't talked much about any of them." Lily's face drops. "Oh god, you're not hung up on Ted again, are you? I was worried about the whole 'roommates' thing."

"What? No! Absolutely not." She waves a hand, but Lily raises a skeptical eyebrow. "I swear. Not hung up on Ted. I'm just busy."

"Do you want me to ask around at school? I could probably find teachers with hot single friends."

Something twinges in her chest. Robin almost tells her then, almost blurts it out right there in The Coffee Pot's squishy red armchairs because it's _Lily_ and because this whole thing is starting to get too big and confusing to keep all in her own head. Her lips part and her brain starts the sentence: 'I'm sleeping with Barney and I can't seem to stop,' but the thought of the look on Lily's face stops her.

If she tells Lily, it's all going to be real.

Very uncomfortably real, and she's going to have to deal with it.

"I'm fine," she says instead. Lily lets it go because she's a good friend, just shrugs and gathers up her coat and starts telling her about her newest cold war with Marshall's mother, and Robin thinks she probably shouldn't feel this intensely relieved to drop the subject.

It starts to get weird.

Her phone rings as she finishes up at work; she's exhausted and mostly just wants to go home and curl up in bed, but Barney sounds so tense and un-Barneyish that she meets him at his apartment anyway. Afterwards they lie in bed; his fingers stroke her hair and she's trying to force her eyes to stay open when he blurts "I'm getting cross-examined this afternoon." His teeth click audibly as his mouth snaps shut.

She blinks. "Like, in a trial? For what?"

Robin feels his Adam's apple bob against her shoulder as he swallows. "Grand jury proceedings are confidential."

She tries to process that, decides she really doesn't want to know anyway. His leg is jiggling restlessly; one hand clenches and unclenches in the sheets. "Are you nervous?"

He snorts unconvincingly, doesn't meet her eyes. "No. I kick ass at testifying."

She frowns a little because Barney and feelings is alien, uncharted territory for them. "I'm sure you'll be great." From her vantage point she can see the top of his lip twitch a little; so she runs what she hopes is a reassuring hand along his back. "You're like the best liar I know."

That makes him laugh a little, and he presses up on his elbow to kiss her. His finger curl along her ear and god, there's something here, like he's pouring everything into her. This is a serious kiss. When he pulls back, she has to suck in a breath because that felt a little like drowning. He rolls away, pushes off the bed.

"Okay," he says, like he's steeling himself. "Okay."

She starts to get up too; she _really_ hopes she doesn't pass out in the cab on the way home because that's always pretty mortifying. But Barney puts a hand on her shoulder, stops her.

"Hey, you can stay and sleep if you want. It's my fault you're on this side of town in the first place."

"Okay," she says because that's all she's got, and he smiles at her and heads into the bathroom. She closes her eyes, tries to make it look like she's asleep as he finishes getting dressed and bangs out of the apartment.

Her eyes snap open as the door slams shut because _what. the. hell._ Robin is 99% sure that she and Barney just had comfort sex, and now he's inviting her to stay in the Fortress of Barnitude while he's not even home? She's positive that the only other girl who's ever been allowed in this apartment unsupervised is Lily.

Robin stares at the scalloped ceiling, wills her heart to stop hammering in her chest. This is crazy. He's just being considerate, that's all. He's being a good friend. There's nothing weird about that, and she should chill out and take advantage of his hospitality and go to sleep like her body's dying to do. She definitely shouldn't be feeling like she's about to hurl.

She takes a breath, closes her eyes.

Ten minutes later she's hailing a cab.

She goes on a date with Rock-Climber Mike on Friday instead of going to hang at the bar, and she spends all of dinner trying to convince herself that she called him because she enjoys his company and because he has a nice ass, not because Barney royally freaked her out the other day.

And it's definitely not because a part of her really likes the idea of getting issued a permanent pass to Barney's apartment. No, she'll stick with the sex visa; safer for everyone that way.

Besides, Barney would never go for it. At least, that's what she thought; now, well, she's not so sure.

After dessert and drinks she decides to bring Mike to MacLaren's, just to prove she can, and the first thing she sees when she walks in the door is Barney sucking face with a blonde chick by the jukebox.

"Ah," she stutters awkwardly, and Mike frowns. She should feel relieved; after all, she's spent most of the week silently freaking out over Barney getting too attached to her. But instead of dissolving, the anxiety floods into nerves, pools sick and heavy in the pit of her stomach, and she has no fucking idea why.

Lily waves them over to the booth; she tries to shake it off. It's fine, it's totally, totally fine. Totally fine, until she goes up to the bar to grab everyone another round and a familiar Armani-clad elbow slides into her line of vision.

"Come home with me tonight," he says, leaning into her space.

Robin quirks an eyebrow, taps her fingernails against the polished wood as Carl makes Lily's gin and tonic. "I'm on a date."

"So?"

"So, what's wrong with that girl? You looked like you were about to close the deal. It's like a bimbo buffet in here."

He rubs his neck, shrugs. "There's nothing wrong with her. But shouldn't you trade up if you have the option?" He shoots a glance at Mike. "And for you it would definitely be trading up; that dude is like, barely a seven." Barney hops onto the stool next to her, steals the beer meant for Marshall. "Simple economics, my friend. Wait, no, _sexonomics_." He squints. "Get-your-Freak-onomics, hey-o!"

"I'm not even going to pretend to understand what you're talking about."

"Oh, come on. Look at that girl; it's going to take me at least two more hours of effort to get her into bed. And even if I do get her clothes off, what do you think the probability is of her letting me do that thing that we did last Saturday?"

Robin glances over, carefully considers the flat gold sandals and the barrette. "Twenty percent."

Barney grins at her, and her traitorous stomach flips a little. "Exactly. Two hours and twenty percent. But with you it's like… fifteen minutes and seventy percent. Plus you're five times hotter than her."

Her cheeks flush a little just thinking about it. "Yeah, more like eighty-five percent."

"_Yes_." Barney claps a little, almost knocks over the stolen beer. "Now we're talking!"

And because she's clearly mentally ill, at the end of the night she kisses Mike goodbye and sends him on his way. She should probably be disgusted with herself, but then Barney kisses her as soon as she slides into the cab, fingers warm on her cheek, and she totally, totally isn't.

Things are easier after that, mostly because she stops trying to figure out why they're doing what they're doing. 'Simple economics,' she tells herself; sleeping with Barney is eminently practical. Whatever, it's as good a reason as any.

And if she catches herself drifting, daydreaming about his lips and his smell and his stupid laugh, well, it's not a big deal. It's only natural that all the sex stuff eventually starts seeping into the rest of her life.

"Mmm, wanna go down to the bar later?" She winds arms tighter around his neck, smiles as his tongue traces an electric, sparking trail along her collarbone.

"Eh, I'm right where I want to be." He snorts into her shoulder, cracks himself up a little. "In your vagina, what up?"

She smacks the back of his head, but that doesn't stop the smile curling at her lip. "You know what I really want to do tonight?"

"Besides me?"

She ignores him. "I think we should put baking powder in Ted's hair gel. So it looks like he has dandruff."

Barney stills against her. "_Yes,_" he blurts fervently. "God, I-" but then his voice dries up and he looks away. Digs his fingers into her hips and urges her up again.

"What?"

"Nothing," he mutters. "It's nothing."

Just before Halloween, Barney gets sent to North Korea on business for a month.

"I didn't even know U.S. citizens were allowed to _go_ to North Korea."

"Ted, please," Barney says. "And Pyongyang is beautiful this time of year."

"Well, we'll miss you, I guess," Lily offers. Marshall raises a glass to that, and Barney seems genuinely touched.

Robin's the only one of them with a car, so she volunteers to drop him off at the airport. When they roll to a stop in front of the terminal she hesitates, fingers digging into the vinyl steering wheel cover. She feels like she should say something to him, but she doesn't have any idea what it should be.

"Have a good flight," she finally says lamely.

"Yeah." He fidgets with his passport, blows out a breath. "Okay Scherbatsky, catch you on the flipside," and then he's out the door, circling the car to grab his bag. She watches him go, jams down on the power window button just as the automatic glass doors swish open.

"Barney!" When he turns back, she grins. "Distance high five!" She slaps the air, and he smiles. Then winks, waves cheerily, and disappears into the departure lobby.

Robin bites her lip, smiles to herself as she eases the car away from the curb.

Three days later Robin's at her desk pulling stories for tomorrow from the wire reports when she reads something that makes her spit nonfat hazelnut latte all over her keyboard. Before she even registers what she's doing, her phone's out of her pocket and her finger's jammed on the speed dial.

The line rings, rings, and then "Hold the dirty stuff, Scherbatsky. Dear Leader is monitoring my phone calls."

"There wasn't going to be any dirty stuff."

Barney hums sadly. "Too bad. So then why are you calling me in the middle of the night?"

Time difference, whoops. "I just think it's awfully suspicious that you jet off to Pyongyang, and three days later North Korea is testing its shiny new long-range ballistic missiles."

"Uh, when is North Korea _not_ doing a missile test?"

"Admit it."

"Is this what passes for investigative journalism these days?"

"I'm just saying: if you're involved in the arms trade, why the hell am I still buying guns at retail price? A good friend would at least get me the wholesale discount."

His laughter sends a little frisson of _something_ down her back. "Goodnight, Robin," he says, voice warm, and she can still hear him chuckling when the line clicks off.

"I'm ninety percent sure Barney's helping sell missiles to North Korea right now," Robin tells them casually over her scotch that night.

"Oh god," and Marshall claps his hands over his ears. "Please don't say things like that in front of me. I don't want to know anything."

"Denial is the only way he's dealing with it," Lily explains, lays a comforting hand on Marshall's shoulder. "He overheard something about voter fraud in Colombia when he went to 'conference call' Barney out of a meeting last week. This job is freaking him out."

"I certainly wouldn't be surprised." Ted stretches yawns a little. "I try not to think too much about things Barney doesn't tell us because every time I start to, I get terrifi-" but his voice cuts out with another gigantic yawn. "Time for me to turn in; I've got a meeting at seven tomorrow."

Lily grabs her purse. "Yeah, us too."

Robin blinks. "You guys are going already?"

She gets an apologetic look from Lily, but she keeps on bundling Marshall out. "Have a good night; hope the show goes well."

And Robin finds herself at the bar at ten p.m. with no one to keep her company but her scotch, and with five hours to kill before work. "Well, crap."

Honestly, Robin hadn't realized how much she's started to rely on Barney for entertainment. She keeps finding herself alone in the apartment after Marshall and Lily leave the bar, watching infomercials until she has to go to work. Hell, even the gym closes by eleven.

She tries hanging out at the cigar bar alone, but she's bored of it after an hour. The pick-up lines aren't even funny; most of the guys there tend to open with an off-hand comment about their Porsche. She goes on a few dates, has some passable, if boring, sex with a guy her friend from work sets her up with. On the weekend, Ted refuses to go with her to the shooting range; she finds out that getting five consecutive bulls-eyes is way less awesome when you don't have someone to gloat to about it. It' gets so bad that she starts thinking about calling the Woo girls again.

Sometimes her fingers will start inching towards her phone while the ShamWow dude drones on in the background but… something always freezes them before she dials. It's not like she and Barney routinely talk on the phone; why on earth would they start now?

On a rainy Friday in mid-November, Robin turns thirty. Lily bakes her this amazing tiramisu cake that mostly tastes like brandy (A+ for that) and she, Marshall and Ted take her out to this great Indian place where they all proceed to get hammered on mid-dollar champagne.

"Thirty is great," Ted tells her seriously after his fourth glass. "Thirty treated me with the love and respect I deserve."

"Presents!" Lily squeals. "Marshall and I got you an espresso maker."

Marshall pats her arm. "Way to ruin the surprise, baby."

She does indeed receive an espresso maker, and a monogrammed set of bath towels from Ted.

"To replace the ones the goat ate. And so you stop stealing mine," he explains. "Plus, I know how much you love shit with your name on it."

"Thanks, guys. This is too much, seriously."Another box materializes in front of her, and she frowns at Ted. "What's this?"

He shrugs. "Barney. And I'm under strict instructions to make you call him as soon as you open it."

She slides fingers under the expensive-looking wrapping paper, lifts the top off the box and- oh holy shit. Holy fucking mother of god.

"What is it?" Lily rises up out of her chair a little to peer over the rim, and goes deathly pale. "Oh my god, there's a gun in this restaurant."

Marshall and Ted both recoil a little, but Robin's still staring down because this isn't just a gun, this is a special edition Colt M1911. She's pretty sure they only manufacture fifty of these a year.

"Is that gold plating?" Marshall squints down closer into the box, but Lily draws him back again. "Seriously, they put gold plating on guns?"

She can't answer because there's nothing but static happening in her brain right now, just white noise and _whatthehellwhatthehellwhatthehell_. She whips out her phone.

"What the _hell_, Barney?" she says when he picks up, and it comes out angrier than she meant it to.

"Why, good morning to you too. You got your present, I assume," and she can hear his shit-eating grin over an ocean and two continents.

"You know I can't keep this. It must've cost you a fortune, Barney, what the hell were you _thinking_?"

"Well that's too bad, since I went to the trouble of getting you licensed to carry it concealed, too." When she doesn't answer, his voice softens. "Robin, don't freak out. I got it wholesale, get it? I know a guy."

"You're crazy," she finally manages, because her throat's closing up because she's starting to grasp it and wow, that's even scarier than the idea that he would've dropped a cool ten thousand for a birthday present.

"Crazy awesome, maybe. Happy 29th," he grins warmly, and that makes her laugh through the lump.

"I'm thirty."

"If that's the way you wanna play it," and he sounds so tinny and thin and far away and god, all in a rush she just wishes he were _here_. "Look, I've gotta go to a meeting. I'll see you guys in a week or two when I get finished, okay?"

"Bye," she says before the connection terminates, and she's left staring at the phone like an idiot. She looks into the box again and the tide rises up, pulls her in because this isn't a present, it's a secret. It's a piece of Barney that he's never shared before, and it's for her.

This shouldn't feel so important.

Before she can stop she's pressing her hand over her mouth, trying desperately to hold it back, but the tears start anyway. God, crying in a restaurant. This is probably the most mortifying moment of her life.

Ted leans over quickly, wraps arms around her and pulls her into his shoulder. "Hey," he murmurs into her hair, rubs her back. "I know. It's okay," but that just makes her hiccup a sob into his ugly striped sweater.

"I just," and thankfully the wool muffles her voice so the whole restaurant isn't privy to her meltdown. "I _miss_ him."

Ted keeps rocking her, and finally Robin manages to get herself under control enough to glance up. Lily and Marshall are staring at her, confusion all over their faces.

"Okay, did I miss something?"

"Oh, Jesus Christ," Ted says, exasperated. "They've been sleeping together for months."

"You and Barney," Lily says over coffee once they make it back to the apartment. "Wow. This is huge."

"We're not- it's not serious."

She frowns over her mug, and Marshall raises an eyebrow. "You're crying in public and it's not serious?"

"You guys cried when I left for Japan. Friends miss each other; that's totally normal." They share a look, and that prickles. She's not stupid; she knows her feelings for Barney at this point aren't exactly platonic, but she also knows that they're pretty hopeless so she's trying not to think about it. "It's really nothing. It's sex."

They let it go, and the tide of conversation turns back to Lily's class. Lily and Marshall head home after cake, and Robin's left sitting quietly with Ted as he sips his coffee. This isn't how she wanted this to go.

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you," she says once she gathers enough nerve. "We should have. It just- it felt too private, you know? And I think Barney was scared you'd be mad."

Ted shrugs, takes another sip. "It was a little weird, I'll admit. And about what happened the first time: I wasn't mad that you guys slept together. I was mad because I thought it was about me."

"What?"

"I mean, I thought it was about Barney sleeping with my ex-girlfriend. You know how competitive he is." He looks down into his coffee contemplatively. "But now I get that it wasn't about me at all. It was about you."

She sighs a little, because she could've told him that in the first place if he'd just thought to ask. "Yeah. How'd you figure out we were sleeping together again?"

"Oh come on, you guys aren't stealthy. You disappear for entire weekends, yet never produce a boyfriend? And let's not talk about all the times that I passed Barney on his way out of the building and got up here to find you in the shower."

"Right." She presses the heels of her hands into her eyes as hard as she can. "I really am sorry. I should've talked to you about it."

"Robin," he says gently, "really, I'm not upset. If anything, it's been good. Seeing how happy you guys are like this, separate apartments, separate lives, well. There was a part of me that was still holding on to you, that kept saying _she's young, maybe someday she'll change her mind_. Part of me thought we still had a chance, and I get now that I was holding back because of it. But you've been happier lately than you ever were when we were together, and I could never be happy living like this. And you're never going to change your mind."

She's tearing up again. "There was a part of me that thought that too, you know. It was nice to think you'd be there."

Ted smiles unsteadily at her; his eyes are wet. "Past tense."

"Past tense," she affirms and something in her chest clenches up and oh god, she's really in love with Barney Stinson. "So what do I do?"

"No idea." He takes her hand. "Just don't chicken out, okay? Barney whines like a little bitch whenever you're not around to go bro-ing with him. When you went to visit your mom over the summer, he was such a nightmare that Lily had to ban him from the booth."

The holidays creep up the way they always do; twinkly lights that appear out of nowhere, surly-looking elves invading department stores. The food is delicious as always, but their Barney-less Thanksgiving just feels sort of wrong. They all crowd around the phone to call him as they eat their pie, but it rings once and goes straight through to voicemail.

She almost calls him the next day, and then the next, and then the day after that, but she just doesn't have the words.

Robin's mid-sip when Marshall lets out a girly squeal from across the booth. She looks up from her wine glass and Barney's standing casually over the table, immaculate as always. "Sup, guys?"

She doesn't quite know how it happens but suddenly they're all caught in a five-way hug, and she and Ted are most definitely _not_ jumping up and down like five-year olds.

"You're back," Lily enthuses to him, pulls back a little to stare at Robin expectantly. "We missed you."

Barney snorts. "Well, who wouldn't? That's a given, Lily."

Robin opens her mouth, snaps it shut. "Who wants drinks?"

He follows her to the bar, slides in to lean next to her. "Hey," and when she looks up he's smiling.

"They know," she blurts guiltily. "About us."

"Oh, thank _god_," and then his hands are on her shoulders as he steers her toward the door.

She trips a little when they hit the pavement outside. "Barney, the hell?

He cocks his head, takes a step back. "Wait, you _don't_ want to go upstairs for a quickie?"

Ah. "Actually, that sounds great."

He nods into the leer. "Yes! Daddy's home!"

Oh, gross. "Nope, I changed my mind." He probably doesn't believe her though, considering that right after she says it she fists her hands in his lapels and kisses him so hard they both almost fall down the stairs.

Robin really hopes they make it back to the apartment.

She means to say something the next morning, but they slide so seamlessly back to where they were before he left that she doesn't even know how to start. Plus, it's a thousand times more fun to spend the morning cracking communism jokes instead.

"Stop, hammer time!" she sings cheerfully when she steps into the shower. Barney laughs, then slides soapy hands down her ass and obliges.

It almost comes out at the cigar bar; she can't stop noticing how good he looks in this suit and he's standing so close to her at the bar she can feel his breath on her cheek, but then he waves his cigar at a beefy guy across the room.

"How about him? Totally your type."

"Right," she says, and oh, who is she kidding? Barney doesn't do love stuff. If she says anything it's just going to freak him out and she'd rather have him in her life like this than not have him in her life at all.

Whatever, she hates relationships anyway.

"Bawk," Ted clucks under his breath as he pours her more eggnog in the kitchen after Christmas dinner.

"Shut up."

"You're a chicken," he calls after her.

Two days before New Year's, Robin does an interview with Steve "the Slammer" Michealson, star forward for the Vancouver Canucks. She barely gets through the segment without giggling because wow, he's _really_ tall. She doesn't usually get starstruck, but oh man, she's already spotted two scars and she's pretty sure he's missing a tooth.

"Thanks," he says as the sound techs fuss around with their microphones. "That was a really great interview."

"Because you were great," and she's blushing, and wow, when did it get so hot in here?

He leans in. "Hey, I'm here for a few more days and I don't know a lot of people in New York. How would you like to have dinner on Friday?"

"I'd love to," she blurts.

"On New Year's," Barney says flatly. "You're ditching us for a hockey player on New Year's."

"I'm not ditching you; I said we'll come back to the bar after."

"Yeah, okay."

Robin squints at him, tries not to notice how Lily and Ted and Marshall are all shrinking down in their seats, trying to look inconspicuous. "What's your problem?"

Barney laughs, but there's none of his usual mirth in it. "Nothing. I am totally awesome. Have a legendary time." He picks up his scotch and slides out of the booth. "Excuse me."

The awkward silence at the table is stifling.

It bursts out. "We're not together!" Marshall frowns; she waves a hand to emphasize. "I mean, he banged that Asian chick in the bathroom three nights ago!"

"Robin," Lily starts, very carefully. "He's scared, too."

_sudden stop_

She spends Friday feeling alternately pissed and nauseous. Steve picks her up at the apartment and they go to this fantastic steakhouse and he looks really, really hot, but all she can think about is how much Barney would love this place. It's totally his style, lots of black leather sofas and polished mahogany trim. Plus all the waitresses are showing significant amounts of boob, and oh, what the hell is wrong with her?

After a jacketed busboy whisks away the remains of her steak, Steve raises his glass. "To new beginnings."

She smiles half-heartedly, clinks his glass, and then excuses herself to the restroom before her mascara starts to run. She twists the tap, splashes some water on her face. Checks her watch; it's just after eleven.

Robin stares at herself in the mirror. She can go out there and smile and have what will probably be really great sex with a guy that she's never going to have to see again, or she can man up and spend New Year's with the people who really matter to her.

She grabs her purse, winds her way out to the table.

"Steve, I have to go."

Fifty bucks gets Robin to MacLaren's in ten minutes. She bursts in, scans the crowd, and her heart sinks. They're not here. "Carl," she says, a little desperately. "Carl, have you seen Barney?"

He looks up, frowns. "Sure, he left with a couple of girls about an hour ago. Are you okay? You need something?"

All of her nervous, giddy energy fizzes out, and she sinks down onto a bar stool. "No. It's fine." She dials Lily, then Ted, but the network is busy and none of the calls go through. Great, alone on New Year's, and the person she wants to see more than anything in the world is probably fucking some other woman because he thinks she doesn't care about him.

Carl slides her a scotch. "On the house, okay?"

Her answering smile is a little watery, and she sighs, loses herself in the warm buzz when she takes a sip.

Worst night ever, she thinks as Ryan Seacrest shouts into his microphone and the bachelorette party in the corner decides that the bar really needs to hear their drunken cover of Whitesnake. She swirls her scotch. New Year's Eve can die in a fucking fire.

Carl clears his throat and when she glances up he's smiling at her. Then someone's breath brushes her neck; there's a familiar voice in her ear.

"A hundred dollars says when you turn around-"

The rest of it gets lost in her lips; she clutches at the back of his neck and he leans into her, arms wrapping around her waist as he presses her into the edge of the bar. Her heart's hammering in her chest and his hands are everywhere: in her hair, brushing her cheek, sliding along her ass. He's here, he's really here. He came back. She feels a little lightheaded; it must be the scotch.

The bar counts down around them, explodes into sound and cheers and hugging. Barney finally pulls back enough to look at her. "Happy New Year," he says, and his smile is so bright her eyes hurt.

She smoothes a hand down his tie, straightens the knot. "You didn't say wow. Pretty sure you owe me a hundred bucks."

He winks, leans in again. "I'm more than willing to work off the debt."

Unsurprisingly, they end up in the alley with his belt undone.

"Wait," Barney wheezes a little. "I have to say something to give this the emotional weight it deserves." She raises an eyebrow, and he grins. "There are two chicks making out on my couch right now."

"So? I could've nailed a professional hockey player."

"Robin," and he gives her a suffering look. "Chicks making out."

"Okay, fine. You win."

He grins, goes back to slicking kisses along her neck. "We're gonna be so awesome. Like, the idea alone is blowing my mind. I knew you'd be here; how crazy is that? I just knew it. Crazy _awesome_, that's how crazy it is."

She bites her lip. "Barney-"

"That was like, the best New Year's kiss ever, right?"

"Oh, it definitely was."

"Hah!" and when he pulls back to shoot a victorious grin at her, she feels her heart skip a terrifying, dizzy beat. "Marshall and Lily can totally suck it!"

The look in his eyes is making her chest hurt; she looks away because this is all moving too fast, and god she has to say it so everything's on the table. She doesn't think she could take it if she lets herself fall and then they crash and burn because she can't give him what he wants. She couldn't take losing him that way. She needs to say it.

"I don't want to get married," she blurts into the crisp fold of his lapel. "I don't ever want that kind of commitment, and I don't ever want kids."

His hand smoothes along her back. "And you seriously think that would be a deal breaker? Wow, it's like you don't know me at all."

She breathes him in, cigars and expensive cologne. "And I don't want to be stuck in New York. I want to travel. I want to live in Greece. And Thailand. I want to be able to go where my life takes me."

Robin can feel the rise and fall his shoulders as he shrugs. "My company owns two airlines. I fly for free."

A lump tickles in her throat and she tries to laugh it out, but it bubbles up more like a sob. "Barney, I can't-"

"Robin," he interrupts shakily, and the un-Barneyish rawness of it twists in her chest, snags and grinds everything to a halt. "Robin, I'm not trying to tie you down. Neither of us wants that. But I'm tired of pretending that you're not the most important person in my life."

"Wow," and she leans into him, letting the words linger a moment. Sniffles a little, dammit. "That was like, your best line ever."

His inarticulate sound of frustration tickles against her scalp. "I'm trying to bare my soul here."

"Yeah." She breathes in deep, tips her head up to look him in the eyes. Counts to three, exhales it all. "I adore you, you know. Totally gone."

A familiar smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. "Really?" and when she nods his face splits into a grin. She can feel her expression mirroring his own and wow, she doesn't think she's ever felt so stupid and giddy before. "Well then," and he steps back, dusts his hands off triumphantly, "feelings talk accomplished. Let us never speak of it again."

"You know, I hear 'I love you' sex is pretty mind-blowing."

He grabs her hand, starts pulling her out of the alley towards the front stairs as the sounds of New York celebrating rise up all around them. "All right, Scherbatsky, now you're speaking my language! This year is gonna be legen -wait for it-"

She laughs.

If Robin learned anything from Ted, it's that loving someone is never a guarantee. Loving someone doesn't mean everything's gonna work out. But when she thinks about them, about cigar smoke and skin and never having to pretend to want something that you don't, well, she feels pretty optimistic.

Then one night at dinner she tries to steal some of the hot fudge off the top of his sundae but Barney blocks her spoon with his own, a fencer's parry, and stares her down. "Excuse you. Do I look like the ice cream fairy or something?"

Lily's gaping at him, horror written all over her face because Barney's just violated one of the most sacred laws of coupledom, but he doesn't even notice because he's too busy killing her with his eyes.

"Order your own, geeze," he says peevishly.

And right then, Robin just _knows._

Once upon a time, Robin Scherbatsky met a guy. She didn't fall in love with him, but then later she did, and he ended up being the best friend she's ever had. And somewhere in between all that she met his best friend, and his best friend's wife, and his other really good friend who became her best friend who she had lots and lots of sex with until she realized that the thought of life without him kind of made her want to vomit.

And that's when things really started getting interesting.

It's another Friday night at MacLaren's, comfortably familiar. Familiar booth, same old scotch and soda, same welcome weight of Barney's arm slung carelessly over the back of the bench.

Ted's introducing them all to his date, a sunshiny girl named Erin. Robin likes her immediately, likes how genuinely she smiles as Marshall and Lily tell the story of how they met. The 'awww' comes from the heart. And she liked the way Ted grinned as he told them how he and Erin met, something about a shouting match in the rain over his umbrella. Barney rolled his eyes but Ted's got that look, that 'let's fall in love and get married and have babies' look that terrified her so deeply, but Erin doesn't seem to mind. In fact, Erin's got a little of that look herself.

Robin can see their love story blooming already, can see Ted and Erin holding hands and smiling at each other as they tell the umbrella story to a thousand different people over the next forty years, choreographing and tweaking it to perfection just the way Marshall and Lily have.

And then she realizes that the thought doesn't bother her at all.

"So," Erin turns to her and smiles her sweet, infectious smile. "How did you and Barney meet?"

She smirks at him. Because really, how the hell do you even begin to answer that? Barney just laughs, his knee bumping hers under the table.

"Please," he says.

and then they awesomed and lazer-tagged forever and Barney always had the skin and libido of a much younger man, THE END


End file.
